


Doves and Ravens

by peppydragon



Series: Fractured Crown [3]
Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: "spin off" from the main storyline, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Graphic Violence, Humor, Part 3 of series, Romance, Sexual Violence, Smut, Some Plot, Valduggery - Freeform, Vampires being vampires, adult Valkyrie, small break from the over-arcing plot, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppydragon/pseuds/peppydragon
Summary: At first, Skulduggery Pleasant is relieved to discover that his partner, Valkyrie Cain, is beginning to put more effort into things outside of hunting the intangible Abyssinia. At first, he assumes that the vampire contact she gained while tracking the Murder Skull is more helpful than harmful. As usual, presumptions are a dangerous thing.| Part 3 of the Fractured Crown Series | AU - Canon Divergent | Spoilers/References for books 1-11 |





	1. Different Days

**Author's Note:**

> [If you haven't read the previous two instalments of _Fractured Crown_ , please do so now! You will be lost if not.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320746)  
>  **This story is _sort of_ a spin-off** \- it focuses on Skulduggery and Valkyrie's relationship (plus some Ghastly/Tanith!) more than the over-arcing plotline. If you're only interested in the over-arcing plot, this story is **SKIPPABLE.** That being said, there are things that happen in this story that come up in later ones. xoxo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One, in which Valkyrie and Fletcher have a surprisingly tense night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own anything! All characters and magical locations belong to Derek Landy. Happy reading!  
> 

* * *

 

Valkyrie Cain closes her eyes and listens to the buzz of the needle. The first time she came to the tattoo parlour, she was nervous - really, genuinely anxious - about her decision. It could get out of control quickly, Valkyrie told herself, especially given Abyssinia's ability to stay hidden.

And yet, she took off her coat that night three months ago. She showed the tattoo artist the design she worked tirelessly on. She regarded the artist's interpretation - which was much more elegant and certainly better scaled - and then rolled up her sleeve.

At first, the tattoo was simple; A coiling tribal design on her upper arm. Each week that passes, each week that Alice isn't reunited with them, a new segment adds to the last. It's beginning to coil up along her shoulder and down to the blade.

"Maybe I won't see you next week," the mortal tattoo artist, Jonah, says with a sad smile when she pays for the addition.

"I've never met a man less interested in getting paid as you."

Jonah shrugs. "Some things are more important. Besides - once your sister gets back from her mission trip, you can plan other tats."

Valkyrie softly laughs and ducks her head; she sometimes forgets how easily she lies to people now. How readily she skirts between her mortal and real life. "Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see." The words sting a little less each time she says them. Valkyrie adds a tip to the payment and gives him a small wave, ducking out into the frosty evening.

Her phone rings before she can get to her car. She grapples with her keys and the phone in her back pocket, managing to use the former to unlock the vehicle. The latter she grunts, "Seriously? I'm, like, ten minutes late."

"Times five."

"Oh, you can do maths now?" Valkyrie returns, getting into the driver's seat. "You could always meet me at the house; we don't have to do this dance every week."

"Half of the fun is calling you out for being late, and then picking out pizza toppings that annoy you," Fletcher replies, and she can't help but grin.

Valkyrie turns the key, and the engine lets out a mournful wail before sputtering and dying. Something very unpleasant filters through the air vents. "Huh."

"Did your car finally commit suicide?"

"It certainly seems that way." She gets out of the car and lifts the bonnet to ensure there isn't anything she can do. There isn't, of course - she's not exactly versed in engines, after all, and the car is ancient.

"So I suppose that means I need to come _all the way_ to Temple Bar to pick you up?"

"Come all the way-"

A hand taps her from behind, and Fletcher is there, the phone still to his ear, grinning at her.

"You're so irritating," she insists while she hangs up. She still takes his hand with a grin, though. They appear at their favourite pizzeria in Roarhaven, pick up a large to split, and playfully bicker about toppings. On their way out, needling one another in rapid succession, a woman tells them that they make a cute couple.

That makes Fletcher smirk and Valkyrie groan. "She thinks we're cute," Fletcher tells her when they duck into an alleyway.

"She probably thinks babies are cute, too." She grabs his arm and waits, but they don't teleport. Valkyrie glances at him and raises a brow. "What?"

"I don't know, just threw me off I guess."

The air is gone and then rushes back in, and Valkyrie is standing in her foyer beside Fletcher, holding the scalding pizza box. "What threw you off?"

"I don't know, it's just -- we're not _like that,_ you know?"

"Like what?" she asks, furrowing her brows. "Did you hit your head on something?"

But Fletcher isn't looking at her anymore - he's looking through the dim entry and out toward the front yard. "You didn't invite anyone else to Monster Movie Mayhem, right?"

"No...?" she moves toward to the window and peeks out. Four figures are standing in the driveway, waiting, evenly spaced out. "What the hell?" she mumbles to herself. Valkyrie swings the door open; Fletcher stammers, following her.

"What the hell?" she shouts at the figures, still holding her pizza. "Fuck off!" Something inside of her goes cold, though, because the masks they wear catch the reflection of the outdoor flood light.

"Damnit," Valkyrie groans, tossing the pizza box onto the ground as one of the Arcanum Scholars throws a blast of air toward Fletcher. Fletcher goes tumbling, unprepared for the altercation, and Valkyrie dodges the second eruption of wind.

"Well?" Darquesse asks, swirling up and around, eager.

Valkyrie knows that she shouldn't give in, not without Skulduggery or Tanith around to temper the rage if needed. Fletcher is terrified of Darquesse - as he should be - and is more likely to disappear and find someone else than to help.

But, this is a prime opportunity.

Valkyrie ducks beneath a fireball, her foot sweeping out to take the blade-wielding student to the ground. Her necromancer ring burns cold on her finger, like frost, and she whips a tendril of darkness through the Scholar's foot, pinning them in place.

She lets Darquesse out, but Valkyrie tethers her just as she and Skulduggery practised. She doesn't allow herself to retreat into their subconscious; it's more of a side-step, or so she tried explaining to Tanith.

Darquesse fills the space immediately, and the shadow tendril turns spiny, striking the student's wrist, twisting, barbs tearing skin while the bones crunch.

"That's excessive," Valkyrie murmurs.

"It's a play on the last time this little bastard tried to kill us."

"I'm well aware."

Darquesse slips between a barrage of fireballs, skirting them in a painfully lazy manner. "If you let them burn any more of my hair off," Valkyrie warns, which only makes Darquesse laugh.

She flings a sheet of shadow between her and the students before curling her hand, caressing the ring with her thumb. The darkness begins to coil, sweeping across the students and sending them flying. The shadows turn to spikes and pin them all in place, their robes caught underneath.

"Fletcher?" Valkyrie calls. Darquesse wiggles in her restraints, but Valkyrie is too focused to let her get further than that. "Can you grab some shackles?"

While the blond goes to find their ever-growing stash of restraints, Valkyrie considers how strange such a statement would be if they were anyone other than who they are. It makes her chuckle a bit, which covers the sound of the torn-wristed student's stumbling steps.

He hits her with his mask, the sharp corner of it smacking her hard enough to send spots in front of her eyes. She whirls before another hit can land, jabbing the heel of her palm into the Scholar's nose. He topples, wet eyes staring at her in horror, and Darquesse laughs.

It happens so suddenly that Valkyrie doesn't immediately understand. One moment she has everything under control - the next, Darquesse is slamming the mask into the kid's face until it's nothing more than gore. Valkyrie shoves Darquesse back and side-steps into place, horrified that brain matter is stuck under her nails and that the mask dented upon the impacts. She stumbles off the boy and turns to find Fletcher coming toward her.

"Ah, shit," he says, and Valkyrie shakes her head.

"No, it's fine; it's me."

Fletcher raises a brow at her before tossing one of the sets of restraints at her feet. "You take care of that one."

"I'm pretty sure there's no use."

Fletcher leans over a bit, catches a better glimpse, and looks extremely ill. "Good God, Val."

"I'm supposed to be training Darquesse."

"Sure, I'm just not sure why this specific situation required hands-on instruction is all."

Valkyrie begins to go to her car, remembers that it's dead outside of her tattoo artist's place, and sighs. "Help me get them to the Sanctuary?"

"Ah, here we go. Using Fletcher for his amazing abilities again."

"I can call Skulduggery if you'd rather."

Fletcher grumbles and moves toward two of the fallen students, grabbing their robes. "Come on, then. I'm hungry, and I'm going to sulk if we miss Mothra."

 

* * *

 

China tuts and brushes hair from Valkyrie's face. Valkyrie tries not to think about how amazing China smells; it's like a garden after the rain or something else equally romantic. "You, dear, cannot take a night off, can you?"

"Believe me, I try," Valkyrie smiles wanly, stepping back. China's hand falls away and lingers in the air between them for a moment. "When did they get out of gaol?"

"Yesterday," China sighs, crossing her arms under her chest. "If you will recall, they previous claimed it was merely a Halloween prank; their sentence was not as extreme as I would have liked."

"It's almost four months too late for this one to be a Halloween trick."

"Indeed." She glances at Valkyrie's hands, still blood-stained, and her brain-flecked jeans.

"Fletcher took the fourth to the morgue," Valkyrie answers before China can ask.

"Ah, well," China murmurs, "he attacked an Arbiter - it is almost as if he deserved it. Not that I would ever claim such a thing, given my status and love for everyone in our community."

Valkyrie bites down a smile; she hates that, even after all of the secrets and anger, she adores China. "If you could leave my name out of it...?"

"Of course." China's smile is gentle. "Was there something else while you're here?"

"Oh." Valkyrie isn't sure what she should ask, but China seems to think there is something. "...How are you?"

"I am well, as I said when you came in covered in blood."

Valkyrie glances down at the carpet. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to ask, so is there something you want to tell me?"  
  
"It is Alice's birthday, and you are choosing to spend it with monster movies and ignoring your parents' calls, I imagine. I thought you might like to..." China rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, _"talk_ about it?"  
  
Valkyrie feels the lump in her throat. "Please don't do this. Not right now."

China softens and leans in, pressing twin air-kisses to Valkyrie's cheeks. "Have Omen put extra wards around the property; I will send some of my other students to fortify it tomorrow evening."

Valkyrie nods and departs, meeting Fletcher in the carpark. He takes her home, and they collect the pizza from the ground. Fletcher orders more while Valkyrie showers and changes, and then they collapse onto her couch. They've missed half of the marathon's opening movie, but it doesn't really matter - Mothra hasn't shown up yet, so Fletcher isn't sulking too much.

"Is it terrible that I smashed in someone's face less than an hour ago, and yet the thing I'm most upset by is that I dropped our pizza?" 

Fletcher glances over at her. He doesn't say anything for a while which only makes Valkyrie feel worse. Usually, he's the first one to tell her she's too hard on herself. "If it makes you feel any better, I was pretty upset about the pizza, too."

Valkyrie snorts and wiggles down into the cushions, kicking her feet onto the coffee table. "It amazes me how many people have just _shown up_ on my doorstep."

"You need a watchdog. A real one, not whatever you're training Darquesse to be."

"A watchdog won't be too much good against sorcerers, Renn."

"But a watchdog might be good for you," he shrugs. "I'm just saying...you went from a house full of people to no one in a week."

Valkyrie turns to look at him, narrowing her eyes. "Is this film marathon just you checking up on me?"

"What? No," he says unconvincingly. "Why would I be worried about you being alone on your sister's birthday?"

Valkyrie chooses to ignore the last bit; she doesn't know if she can keep herself together if she doesn't. "Tanith's only gone for another few days, and I never wanted Melancholia here. Omen and Never have their new place - and thank God, I was getting tired of opening the fridge and finding dish soap."

"What?"

"It's Omen. He's constantly distracted by ten things at once."

"And Wreath?"

Valkyrie turns her attention back to the television. "Wreath chose to leave."

"I was there - you didn't give him anything close to a choice." Valkyrie doesn't answer, so Fletcher continues, "You know you can't keep holding this over his head."

"He had one job," Valkyrie says. "He failed; Alice is gone. And now he is back at the Temple, his real home, and he doesn't need to worry about the Edgleys."

"That's not fair."

"Neither is the fact that my sister isn't at home blowing out eleven relighting candles right now." She turns on him, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you taking _his_ side on this?"

The doorbell rings, and they both startle. Fletcher gets up and goes to the door; Valkyrie listens while he greets the delivery person, flirts without feeling, and then returns with the pizza box.

Valkyrie is suddenly very disinterested in food.

 

* * *

 


	2. 14.02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, in which plans are made.

"Are you sure you're not French? Your accent is perfect."

Valkyrie sips from her wine glass. Her smile hurts, but she can't afford to piss off another employer by losing her cool with a perp. Again. "You probably tell all of the pretty foreign girls that."

Slate Verve chuckles when he leans back into his chair. "You are quite right; in this case, it is also the truth."

"At least you're honest," she murmurs, setting her glass aside. "So, Verve-"

"No, no, Slate. And no business before dessert, yes?"

"Verve," Valkyrie repeats a little harder; it's getting more difficult to keep the smile. "I am sure you're aware the precarious position this puts me in, being an Arbiter and all."

"I assure you, Ms Cain - no one will interrupt us."

She crosses her legs and folds her fingers over her knees. She keeps her left hand on top - not merely to showcase the necromancer ring on her middle finger, but to draw attention to the missing fingertips. She likes to see people's reaction to them - how they pretend they didn't see, how they go out of their way not to look again but fail. It gives her an upper hand, as it were. Valkyrie smiles at her unintentional pun and then realises that she's old enough to appreciate dad jokes.

"Are you sure you can get me what I need, Verve?"

Verve looks offended - granted, he seems emotionally fragile, so Valkyrie guesses she shouldn't be surprised. "As long as you can hold up your end of the bargain."

Valkyrie takes a breath, forces herself to keep her serenity in place. "I kill your Grand Mage, make it look like an accident, and then you get me that skull. Yes?"

Verve hesitates for a moment; Valkyrie worries that she slipped, that he hears the whisper of Cleavers moving in around the hotel room door. But he chuckles, reaches for Valkyrie's hand, and murmurs, "Yes. When Helema is dead, I will get the Murder Skull for you. Tit-for-tat, or so they say."

"They do say that," Valkyrie agrees, ignoring his hand and standing on her own. She saunters to the door, opens it, and steps aside for the three Cleavers. She rounds the corner, ignoring the shouts of surprise, outrage, and pleads that come from room 428.

The Cleavers make the arrest and Valkyrie retreats via the stairwell, not unclenching her fists until she breaks out into the midnight fog. She chainsmokes while she wanders, indulging in her anxious bad habit for the first time in weeks. Valkyrie tells herself that it's okay because she's in Paris and their hand-rolled cigarettes is the best she ever had.

Valkyrie's phone dings; she dismisses the notification from her bank, knowing that the French Sanctuary funds have come in. She also ignores the call from Fletcher, and his voicemail asking her why she flew to Paris instead of waiting for him.

She'll probably tell him that she wanted to remind herself of how terrible mortal means of travel are. But it isn't the reason; the reason is much, much simpler. Valkyrie wants to be alone with her thoughts. Alone, but surrounded by others who don't know her, don't care for her, don't even notice her.

She isn't ready to go home. The house is always empty; even though Tanith is back from up-ending her life in London, she's been busy as a newly appointed Arbiter. Most nights that Valkyrie is home, Tanith is gone. Most nights that Valkyrie is home, Skulduggery is gone, too.

When the first light of dawn begins to caress the duty-free shops in the Opera quarter, Valkyrie takes a cab to the airport. She paces around the terminal, making others stare. She goes to the massive windows and watches planes come in and go out. She counts the seconds until her flight leaves.

The trip takes two hours, but it feels like an eternity; Valkyrie has gotten accustomed to instant gratification thanks to Fletcher and Never. Even so, when the plane lands and she has no other choice than to go home, she hesitates at the baggage claim. She smokes another cigarette in the cold morning air. And then she hails a cab.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie feels nothing but exhaustion when she looks up at the quiet house. She opens the front door and immediately hears voices from the second storey. Valkyrie panics for a split second before she can place the sounds, and then deflates. It's merely Gordon and Skulduggery. She lets out a little sigh and trudges up the stairs.

The pair fall silent when Valkyrie slides into the room and leans against the wall. She turns her eyes from one to the other. "Sorry, do I need to go out for a bit? Let you finish up your confidential conversation?"

"Someone is cranky," Gordon observes.

Valkyrie raises a brow in faux-offence. "No wonder you never got married."

"Oh Valkyrie, there are _many_ reasons I never married, but my tongue has never been the issue."

"Oh God," Valkyrie groans.

"How was Paris?" Skulduggery helpfully interrupts. His voice purrs and Valkyrie resists her urge to shiver, forgetting about her uncle's intended or unintended innuendo.

"It took less than ten minutes to get him to ask me to murder his boss, and then he immediately confessed to all of the corruption and attempted assassination charges. In other words, it was pretty boring."

"I will make sure to send you somewhere more hostile if you'd like?"

She smirks at him before glancing at Gordon. He's staring at Skulduggery very intensely as if trying to convey something with his glare. "Right," Valkyrie draws the word out, "I'm going to take a bath. You two keep on...keeping on."

When she leaves the study, she hears Skulduggery chuckle and murmur, "You used to be discreet."

"Well, discretion hasn't gotten anyone anywhere when it comes to you. Or Stephanie, for that matter."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes and retreats to the bathroom. Since Fletcher let it slip about her and Skulduggery, Gordon has been both too offended and too curious to keep his questions to himself. Valkyrie's considered never entering the study again just to avoid more probing, awkward conversations - evidently, if this is any indication, Skulduggery shares her struggle. 

The bath is scalding when Valkyrie lowers herself into it, the bubbles nearly reaching her chin. Valkyrie ignores that she sloshed water over the rim, and she ignores that she forgot to randomise the music coming through her phone speaker. She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and tries to focus.

She saw Alice once, about a month ago, while meditating. Alice was clean and well-dressed, picture perfection, but white gauze still covered her eyes. Valkyrie wanted to see those eyes, wanted to assure herself that she missaw, that Sanguine hadn't torn them out as revenge.

But she knows it happened.

When she saw Alice, the girl turned her head toward where Valkyrie was. She smiled faintly. She wiggled her little finger, a childhood ritual. Valkyrie smiled at it, tried to reach out with her own, to link the fingers and tighten the grip. God, she wanted to do that one little thing. Not speak, but feel. Reassure herself.

Valkyrie tries to see Alice every chance she can, but she hasn't reappeared. _So far,_ Valkyrie has to amend often.

Valkyrie's meditation is interrupted when a soft knock comes on the door. "Come in," she offers, and the door opens - Skulduggery steps in, closing the wood behind him. "Hey," she greets with a faint smile. "Done conspiring with my uncle?"

"I wish it was conspiring. Instead, it was your uncle scolding me."

"About?"

Skulduggery takes his jacket off and carefully hangs it on the back of the door. His sleeves roll up, and he comes to kneel beside the tub. "About us."

Valkyrie's smile cannot stop spreading. "He's scolding you for dating me _again?"_

"Oh, no. This time he's scolding me for not properly doting on you."

"This is an unexpected twist."

"He also informed me that I am supposed to prove that I care about you by spending a lot of money tonight?"

Valkyrie's smile turns into a laugh. "Oh really? Suddenly Gordon thinks Valentine's Day is more than a consumer holiday?"

"That is stunningly close to what I asked."

Valkyrie bites her lower lip and brushes his radius with her fingers. "I would rather stay in."

"I was told that I should insist, although that honestly feels a bit rude."

Valkyrie loves him so much. "How about we go to a film? I have no idea what there is...or why I would want to risk going on Valentine's Day."

"But first, dinner."

Valkyrie groans and sinks a little lower in the tub, the bubbles teasing her chin. "You can't eat anything."

"But _you_ can; as bothersome as it is, I am supposed to ensure you eat on occasion."

"I eat all the time." But before Skulduggery can admonish her for opposing every proposal he ever gives her, she smiles. "Alright. Dinner and a picture."

 

* * *

 

Ghastly is behind on orders. Between becoming the Arbiters' official tailor and an Elder at the Sanctuary, Ghastly has no lack of work. He always wanted purpose in his life, but it is difficult to remember that in recent months.

There is a knock from the door, and he sighs. "We're closed!" he calls. There is no response, so he settles back in.

And then the door is jingling, swinging open with stunning familiarity.

Ghastly rounds the corner, jumping into action before the newcomer closes the door. His clenched fists release when he realises who it is. "Is everything alright?"

Tanith Low turns and lifts a party-box of beers, the bottles clinking pleasantly. "I just got back from killing a suanggi and selling my damned flat. Unrelated to one another, of course, but I, for one, want to celebrate. Unless you have other plans tonight?"

Ghastly chuckles and leans back into the shop counter. "I have two more suits to make for Skulduggery, and I am still behind on repairing your trousers."

"Nevermind all that," she shrugs as if it's nothing. She saunters toward Ghastly, putting the box on the counter, her right arm brushing his left. "We have alcohol and charming company which is much, much more interesting."

Ghastly meets her gaze. "We can drink, but I need to keep working."

Tanith grumbles but follows him into the back room. She pops two caps from two bottles, handing one to Ghastly and sitting beside him. She watches quietly while he makes the repairs to her leathers.

"This is fascinating," she says after three beers, languidly resting her chin on Ghastly's shoulder. It's slowing him down since she's limiting his range of movement - and his sewing machine is not forgiving - but he isn't about to complain.

"You are humouring me, but thank you."

"I am not," Tanith laughs. "It's really impressive."

Ghastly finishes the last stitch and runs a finger across the four patches he made. He frowns - the beer or the smell of Tanith's shampoo made his attention shaky. He reaches forward for a clear liquid hung on the wall, rubbing a bit of the oil across the pieces. It grinds the entire thing down into a seamless fix.

"Damn," Tanith murmurs appreciatively. She takes the trousers and analyses them. "Can I try them on?" she asks as if he has any say in it.

"Of course," he starts, but she's already wiggling out of her skinny jeans, the denim sliding down muscled legs. "Oh," he says without meaning to, glancing away.

Tanith simpers. "You know, Ghastly," she begins; he hears her slipping out of her jeans and into her trousers. "I was assuming our first date would be something like...you cook me dinner and pretend not to fall in love with me, and I pretend that I know something about wine and that I'm not attempting to draw your gaze to my cleavage."

Ghastly does look at her then - the trousers have just slid over a pair of crimson panties. "I'm sorry?"

Tanith buttons her pants and turns, looking at the fit in the corner mirror. "I like this better, though. It's more real; more us." She glances at him through the mirror. Her lips are tilted up, but she looks deadly serious. Ghastly doesn't know what to say; he isn't even sure if he can speak. Tanith turns to him and steps a little closer, leaning down to place her hands on her knees. "You like me, yeah?"

Ghastly feels cornered, but he sighs, "Yes."

"Well, I like you, too. I figured it might be good to let you make the first move, but it's been a bit. And you still try to run from me when you see me in the Sanctuary."

He's such an idiot. He almost apologises but stops himself. He meets her eyes and murmurs, "Well, it's hardly the first date if one of the people doesn't realise it's happening."

"Hmm," Tanith pretends to consider. "Well, if that's the case...?" She waits, grinning.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"Do I need to pretend to know something about wine or that I forgot to wear a bra on accident?"

"Pretending is less fun," he murmurs. His eyes slip to Tanith's mouth and then back. "You still haven't confirmed," he reminds her.

"Hmm? Oh, I didn't, did I?"

"You did not, no."

"That's silly of me." She leans in a bit, hovering above his lips. "I would love to."

Ghastly guides her jaw toward him; Tanith eagerly covers his mouth with hers.

 

* * *

 


	3. Mixed Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three, in which Valkyrie receives a gift and Ghastly bonds with Tanith.

* * *

 

Valkyrie looks around and can already feel the headache forming. There are so many _people._ But she suffers silently, dignified, refusing to let her annoyance show.

"I am worried others think I have kidnapped you, the way you're scowling."

Valkyrie winces and glances at Skulduggery. His facade is handsome; he promised he wouldn't choose another horrifying one when they go out. Valkyrie isn't one to put _too much_ stock in looks - she's dating a damned skeleton, after all - but some of his facades have pressed the boundaries of 'safe for public viewing.'

"Sorry."

He is suddenly moving, standing from the bench they're loitering on. Valkyrie raises a brow at him, a slow smile forming. She takes his hand when he offers it, and he leads her away from the over-booked restaurant and toward Mountjoy Square.

"What happened to forcing me to eat?"

"You know I would never force you to do anything."

"That's not at all true."

"How many times have I politely asked you to do something, and you chose to do the exact opposite?"

"That doesn't sound like me."

"Oh? Then why did you go to Paris without waiting for Tanith?"

"Tanith was in Jakarta dealing with that 'suggy' thing."

"Suanggi."

"That, yes."

"It's a very terrifying kind of spirit."

"I believe you."

"You have to destroy it, remove its head, and then deposit the body and head in separate areas of the sea."

"I'm confused why you're telling me this."

"Because suanggi are fascinating and worth your respect. Fear and hatred, mostly, but also respect."

"I get it; suggies are scary."

Skulduggery sighs and returns to his original point, of which Valkyrie has already forgotten. "Tanith was coming home _that night,_ Valkyrie. There was no reason to leave early."

They reach the fountain when she turns to him, raising a brow. "What is going on?"

Skulduggery doesn't answer for a moment, but then he murmurs, "You promised that you wouldn't keep doing this." When Valkyrie doesn't answer, he sighs. "You cannot leave for a mission without telling someone where you are, how you're getting there, where you're investigating. You can't leave Fletcher out of the loop, ignore his texts, and then expect him to be fine with it. You cannot do this to your partners, Valkyrie."

Valkyrie sets her jaw. She wants to argue that she's just doing her job, just saving Fletcher some time, just seeing some sights and buying expensive cigarettes. But Skulduggery can see right through her; he always has. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes." She hesitates. "Kind of. I _am_ sorry because I make everyone worry, but I'm not sorry that I need to detach sometimes." She presses a finger to Skulduggery's chin, the tiny cleft. "I'm going to stop disappearing, though. I'll use Fletcher, and if I want to fly, I'll tell everyone." He doesn't seem convinced, so she presses a little harder. "I'll tell _you._ Even when you're on another case, I'll let you know. Okay?"

"I would be more reassured if you hadn't already promised these things."

Valkyrie laughs at that and leans into him. "Can we go home?"

"Your present will be here shortly."

Valkyrie's brows raise comically high. "Excuse me?"

"Your present. I assumed that I would never be able to convince you to have dinner, and you hate going to the cinema. So, I planned something else. Well, _technically_ Fletcher planned it."

Valkyrie steps back. _"Excuse me?"_

"That sounds sloppy at best, doesn't it?"

"It does. What does Fletcher have to do with it?"

"Well," Skulduggery begins, offering his arm to her. She takes it, and he guides her further into the park. "While Gordon was scolding me, Fletcher checked in because you never told him you were travelling via plane."

"Yes, yes, I'm aware that I am an ass," Valkyrie groans.

"He had an idea for your birthday present, but I convinced him that he should do it sooner."

"As in, on Valentine's Day?"

"In retrospect, it might send some mixed messages."

Valkyrie snorts and then laughs, shaking her head. "I honestly don't understand my life anymore."

Fletcher materialises in front of them so suddenly that Valkyrie yelps and stumbles back a few steps, wrenching Skulduggery's arm and earning an annoyed grumble from her date. "Hey," Fletcher grins at them. "Alright, give me a second." He disappears and, before Valkyrie can process anything, he's back.

And he's holding a puppy.

 _"No,"_ Valkyrie says, eyes wide and looking between the men. "Oh my God, this is the best gift ever," Valkyrie whispers reverently, immediately taking the squirming German Shepard into her arms. The dog is already massive, and she baulks under the weight, at the eager licks and nuzzles.

"You got me a watchdog," Valkyrie grins at Fletcher. "This is amazing, Fletch. Thank you."

Fletcher looks a little uncomfortable, his gaze sweeping from Valkyrie to Skulduggery and back again. "Yeah, of course. The boss figured it'd be better to get her sooner rather than later."

"Her," Valkyrie repeats, scrunching her nose when the dog wiggles to lick the exposed stretch of her neck. "She's amazing," Valkyrie repeats, shifting the dog's weight to free an arm, drawing Fletcher in for a hug. "Thank you. Really."

"Sure," he laughs and pulls back, biting the inside of his cheek. "Alright, um. I'll let you guys get back to it." He nods and disappears.

Valkyrie furrows her brow and glances up at Skulduggery. "He was acting weird, right?"

"Not when you consider that he fancies you."

"He does not," she says and then reconsiders. "Oh, you might be right."

"I am."

"And you told him to get me a dog on Valentine's Day?"

"To be entirely honest, I assumed Gordon was exaggerating how terrible of an idea that was."

Valkyrie nuzzles her face into the dog's fur, earning an exuberant burst of kisses against her cheek. "I need to get pet supplies."

"In the Bentley."

"You went shopping for me?"

"The alternative would be letting Fletcher take all of the credit."

Valkyrie smirks into the dog's fur. "Can we go home now?"

"If by _home_ you mean my house; you still need my gift."

"Oh?" she asks, intrigued.

"I thought we could fit a lesson in. I am sure Darquesse is willing to come out for a bit."

Darquesse is more than willing.

 

* * *

 

Ghastly has abandoned his work to prepare something to eat. He and Tanith have a good deal of alcohol in them - Ghastly is already close to burning the small kitchenette down because he keeps getting distracted by Tanith's smile. And other assets, of course, but the smile she gives when she laughs is one he cannot see enough of.

"So," Tanith begins slowly, shifting in her seat and taking another drink from her bottle. "I don't want to bring up anything heavy, but...you know I have to ask."

"Was all of the kissing a ruse?" Ghastly asks, voice bland, but he offers her a smile.

"Hell no, you loon. But I figure, we're bonding, we're waiting for those steaks to finish..."

Ghastly sits across from her at the worn wooden table and leans over it a bit. "Skulduggery is Lord Vile."

"Yeah," Tanith murmurs, eyes sweeping across the table and then to his face. "Bit of a shock."

Ghastly sets his jaw. "Lord Vile killed my mother."

Tanith's eyes widen; she goes very still, processing, before she leans toward him, one of her hands covering his. "Ghastly."

Ghastly tightens his fingers around hers. "He never told me. I had to find out from that _thing_ inside Valkyrie. I never questioned why Vile arrived after Skulduggery disappeared, or why Skulduggery came back when Vile disappeared. I never questioned him. I took what he said for the gospel, and this is what happens. I thought we were more than that. I thought he trusted me more than that."

Tanith swallows but her eyes don't leave him. "Ghastly, I'm going to say something that you need to hear, but you're not going to like it. In the spirit of this first date thing, I figure I owe you the disclaimer."

"It is appreciated."

Tanith takes a breath. "I know for a fact that if I killed Val's mum or dad or sister, that she would never forgive me. Even if I had evil inside of me, even if it was a curse, _even if_ everything. She would never forgive me." Her hand slides out of his but finds his jaw, brushing her thumb across the jagged lines of his cheek. "To be honest, I would need to have a long, hard talk with myself to decide if the truth was worth losing her forever."

"I know," Ghastly says because he does; he is very aware the standard he is holding Skulduggery to. He is very aware that what he expects is insane. But it hurts so damned much. "But I can't forgive yet. I don't know if I ever can."

"Fair enough," Tanith smiles, leaning in to press her lips to his. He lingers, delighting in the feel of her, but the oven dings; the pan-seared steaks finished roasting much too soon. Tanith pulls back and perks up. "Thank God; I'm bloody starving."

Ghastly goes to remove the steaks from the oven. He pulls the plates down just as Tanith ghosts behind him, gently wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thanks for a nice night," she murmurs, and he turns slowly in her arms. Her chin rests on his chest, and her eyes focus on him.

"Are you leaving?"

She grins and pulls back a little. "I wasn't planning on it. I just thought you could use a bit of a hug."

Ghastly can't help himself; his arms envelop her, and she rises up on her heeled boots, mouth ghosting over his neck, jaw, and then lips. Ghastly hefts her up by her backside, sliding her onto the counter to turn his assault to her throat. The plates crash to the floor when one of her hands fumbles for balance on the countertop.

Neither of them cares enough to pay any mind.

 

* * *

 


	4. Hand-to-Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four, in which Darquesse raises Skulduggery's ire and Valkyrie manages to soothe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Sexual Violence (Skulduggery/Darquesse)

* * *

 

Valkyrie sets up Xena's bed in the corner of the empty kitchen, along with a food and water bowl. She tosses the toys Skulduggery picked out, but Xena goes directly to her pillow and collapses. Valkyrie watches her for a moment before turning back to Skulduggery.

He has cleared the entire space of his living room for them and is in the process of removing his jacket. Valkyrie leans against the wall, watching him, breathing slowly. Darquesse cannot contain the excitement buzzing through her, rattling Valkyrie to her core.

"Xena might not like her soon-to-be favourite people tearing one another to shreds in the next room," Valkyrie says.

"Who?"

"Xena. My dog."

He turns, removing his tie. "Can dogs wear earmuffs?"

"Do you own earmuffs?"

"No, but I am sure Fletcher could get us a pair."

Valkyrie can't help the laugh. "That would be hard to explain."

"Nonsense. Earmuffs for a dog, while the dog's owner gets beaten into the carpet in the next room, makes complete sense."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes. "It's cute that you still think you're going to beat Darquesse anywhere."

Skulduggery finishes removing his outerwear and rolls his sleeves up while glancing in on the sleeping dog. "Well, I suppose I could try to contain the air around her. It might be impossible to maintain while you are undoubtedly breaking my skull against the coffee table-" He pauses, cocks his head. Valkyrie waits, knowing he's come up with something. "The cloaking sphere."

Valkyrie perks up. "You still have it? I thought you gave it back to Wreath."

"I gave him _a_  cloaking sphere...it might have been the broken one, though."

Valkyrie snorts, part of her delighting in Wreath's potential scolding from High Priest Tenebrae over losing an artefact. It's petty, but it makes a part of her feel better. Lighter.

Skulduggery finds the sphere and returns with it, eyeless gaze fixed on the two hemispheres. "We don't have long between cycles."

"I know," Valkyrie says. "It won't take long to tire you out."

"Darquesse?" he presses.

"She knows. She either follows the rules or you continually snap my neck long enough for me to regain control."

"The casualness you use when alluding to me snapping your neck is horrifying."

Valkyrie shrugs. "Nothing's killed me yet; what are _you_ going to throw at me that will change that?"

Skulduggery chuckles and sets the timer. He puts the sphere in the kitchen, far enough back that the living room is free, and then approaches her.

Valkyrie has to resist every single fight response that shoots through her when Skulduggery takes her throat in hand. She swallows down the little spikes of fear, knowing Skulduggery is about to hit her. Somehow it's more terrifying when it's his fist swinging at her.

The hand slams into her cheek and her world rocks. Valkyrie wheezes but can't move, Skulduggery's grip tightening on her neck. The pain focuses Darquesse; Valkyrie mentally prepares herself. She slides further back into her consciousness than she's comfortable with, side-stepping twice, and Darquesse has control of one of her reins.

"I do wish you could channel her without requiring duress," Skulduggery reminds her while she pants and adjusts.

Darquesse raises an arm and swings her elbow down onto the hinge of Skulduggery's arm, yanking his hand. Darquesse falls with the motion as Skulduggery fumbles. She catches herself and sends a foot into Skulduggery's pelvis, and then her hands shove into his ischium. His trousers dampen the blow, but it still sends Skulduggery reeling. His hand loses purchase on her neck, and she laughs.

Darquesse raises her leg to stamp onto his ankle, to grind his tarsels into dust. Valkyrie seizes the other rein and yanks, making Darquesse seethe and stumble back. "Follow the rules," Valkyrie reminds her.

Darquesse grumbles but lets Skulduggery get up, flexing her fingers experimentally. The shadows spill from her ring and her remaining fingertips, covering the floor around them. "I could tear you into bits if I wanted," Darquesse tells Skulduggery, twitching her fingers and making the shadows froth like an angry sea. It laps at his shoes and the leather sizzles.

Skulduggery doesn't move or respond, and that irritates Darquesse. Darquesse came into being inside Stephanie Edgley, and Stephanie Edgley rarely shut up. She grew strong under Valkyrie Cain, and Valkyrie Cain is known for her sharp tongue.

Skulduggery always feeds into Valkyrie's taunts, yet he doesn't seem to enjoy playing Darquesse's game. That, too, makes Darquesse angry. It makes her hate that she can't unleash everything on him, that she can't break his bones or molecularise him.

"Rules," Valkyrie repeats.

When Skulduggery comes at her, she shimmies away, circles, and lands a hit to his spine. He buckles to the ground, but she kicks his ribs before Valkyrie can stop her.

"She doesn't seem pleased tonight," Skulduggery says to Valkyrie while he gets to his feet.

Darquesse narrows her eyes at him. "This is boring. Where's your better half?"

Valkyrie tears at her rein, and Darquesse snarls. Skulduggery watches for a moment before stepping toward her. He deflects a hit, grabbing her wrist and twisting. She moves to whirl out of the grip, but his free hand clutches her hip and uses her momentum to pin her front to the wall. She gasps and lets out a grunt of pain when he twists the wrist, yanks, and dislocates her arm. Before it can mend, he takes the ring from her finger and tosses it aside.

Darquesse smirks into the plaster. "You think that silly ring of hers matters to me? _I_ am my own weapon, skeleton."

Skulduggery dislocates her shoulder a second time, leaning in to murmur, "Hand-to-hand."

"Valkyrie doesn't need me for my hand-to-hand," she reminds him, although that's a lie. Valkyrie is good at most things, but her melee abilities have always been lacking.

"Hand-to-hand," he repeats, dislocating the shoulder a third time, the fingers on her hip gripping, digging into her unprotected trousers. "Or you go back."

"Fine." Darquesse flings her head back, connecting with the side of Skulduggery's head. He falls back, wrenching her arm enough to send her to the ground. She's up before Skulduggery straightens; Darquesse lets one of his disoriented hits connect with her jaw, but the second she deflects. She brings her knee up, slamming it into his ribs, bringing her elbow down to the back of his head.

Skulduggery stumbles around and circles while Darquesse watches him. "Isn't it interesting you're choosing to spend the night this way?" she asks. "I'm positive Valkyrie would be willing to try something along these lines in the bedroom - we share mind and body, after all - but _this_ seems a little more aggressive than is healthy."

Skulduggery expects her next attack; he doesn't fall for her gibes nearly as often as others do. He ignores her words and twists when she launches herself at him. He grabs her by the underarm and shoves her into the wall. Skulduggery releases her, steps back only enough to kick her. His foot connects with her jaw; her head whips to the side, a startled yelp slipping from her lips.

"About time," Darquesse purrs. She slides up the wall but doesn't push off of it. "He fights you a bit more when I'm around, doesn't he?"

Skulduggery doesn't reply - and his skull is annoyingly blank - but Darquesse knows the answer; she and Lord Vile connected once, reached out and felt. Darquesse can feel him singing in the air between them - she can only imagine how much control it takes to keep him back.

"Does he think he should be weaponised, too?" Darquesse continues, stepping toward Skulduggery. She reaches out to press a finger to his chin, just as Valkyrie does, but he swats her hand away. She smirks. "Maybe we need Vile trained, too. Two attack dogs are better than one, aren't they?"

 _Hey,_ Valkyrie warns, but Darquesse continues, voice dropping to a soft purr, lips ghosting across Skulduggery's jaw. "Or do you have even less control over him than Valkyrie has over me? If you got his armour, how quickly would you kill us? Kill _her,"_ Darquesse amends.

Skulduggery grabs her throat, the sharp tip of his gloved thumb digging into the angle of her jaw. Darquesse chuckles silkily until he tightens, cutting off her air supply.

"Let me?" Darquesse accidentally croaks aloud, still unused to the sensation of filtering her words. Skulduggery pushes her away; Darquesse stumbles back, gasping with something besides rage.  
  
She can feel Valkyrie regaining her control, but Valkyrie stops before reclaiming everything. Valkyrie leans in, over, presses the buttons, but Darquesse is still _there,_ still _feeling._ "Skulduggery...I want to try."

Skulduggery makes a noise that says he has expected this. "Absolutely not."

"Why?" she presses. "You're willing to strangle me, but you aren't willing to fuck me?" He is very still, but Valkyrie doesn't back down. Her heart flutters with Darquesse's excitement.

"It is different, Valkyrie, and you know that."

Valkyrie releases her grip; Darquesse is back, her eyes shimmering. She glides toward him, and he pulls her in, pressing his teeth to her. Darquesse coils against him, a leg raises, draping across his sharp hip.

"Come out to play?" she breathes while she unbuttons his collar.

"He will not."

She pouts and pushes him down onto the sofa, shoved back and away from their sparring area. Darquesse lowers herself to his lap, leaning in, fingers vicing around his ribs. She wiggles her fingers, little shadows coiling inside of his chest cavity. They reach out, seeking. "I've convinced you before," she murmurs, pressing her lips to his teeth again. "And is there anything you won't do for Valkyrie?" She smiles, and the expression is wicked. "For me?"

Skulduggery snaps her wrist; she howls, more shocked than anything, and narrows her eyes at him while her wrist heals. "Did you used to hurt Abyssinia?" she murmurs, slowly rubbing herself along one of his legs. "Did you used to snap her wrist just to watch her heal? To see all of that corruption stitching her back together?"

"She didn't have the corruption back then."

"But you hurt her anyway?" Darquesse laughs, pulling her shirt off, unhooking her bra, tossing them both toward the lopsided coffee table. "Did she like it? Did she beg you for it? Did she ask you to do obscene things to her, Mr Pleasant? Did you do them?"

"Valkyrie," Skulduggery warns, but Valkyrie doesn't stop her.

"What about your wife?" Darquesse presses.

Valkyrie is back, clawing for the reins, but Skulduggery's hand wraps around Darquesse's neck and pulls her in, teeth gnashing at her shoulder. Darquesse moans, finally entertained, and flicks his facade into place. "Get your other half, or get to work," she orders.

Skulduggery's thumb is shoving into her windpipe as he launches her onto her back. His facade is steely-eyed, emotionless while he chokes her. Darquesse loves it. She fumbles with his pants and slides them down over his thighs, kicking the back of his calf to get him to lower onto her. It's uncoordinated, awkward from the couch and the angle, but Darquesse tears around inside of him with her shadows, coaxing at Vile, tempting. Skulduggery's movements are animalistic, his hands vicing on her, not bothering to let up when Darquesse gags.

Darquesse can feel Vile beginning to surface, to respond to her, to pool in Skulduggery's core, to coax the facade's cock into _feeling._ Skulduggery stammers and gasps, halting immediately.

Valkyrie is shouldering her way back into control; Darquesse tries to fight her back, but the night has taken more out of her than she expected. Valkyrie shoves her back and blinks up at Skulduggery, face concerned.

"Did you feel it?" he asks, staring into her normal eyes, her normal expression.

"Was it Vile?"

He gives a single nod, still unmoving. Neither of them knows what to do with this information - the last time Vile and Darquesse found one another, it resulted in property and bodily damage. But then Valkyrie pulls his face down by the jaw, pressing her lips against his. She flicks the marks on his collarbones, and his facade flows away.

Vile presses through, shaping shadows that Valkyrie is leaking into his ribcage. A phallus forms and Valkyrie meets Skulduggery's eyeless gaze. "Okay?" she asks. When he nods again, she pushes him back and straddles his waist.

She starts slow, gliding across the solid-but-not thing pulsing inside of her. Valkyrie can't keep herself calm for long, though - Darquesse is still nearby, vicariously living while pining for the snippet of Vile that she can feel.

Vile pulses again and Skulduggery gasps and pants, pelvis stuttering beneath her. Valkyrie grips his clavicle, watching him, amazed. "You felt that didn't you?" she breathes. "You really...you _felt_ that." He doesn't have to answer; Valkyrie lets out a noise she refuses to acknowledge and quickens her pace above him, watching his jaw as he groans, as he tilts his head back, as he focuses on her.

Darquesse wiggles inside of Valkyrie, around her; Darquesse smoothes out Valkyrie's movements, evening her rocking pelvis, gradually building her pace. Skulduggery's noises are driving Valkyrie wild - _both of_ _them_ wild - and Darquesse lets out an appreciative sound when something darker colours Skulduggery's groans.

Valkyrie leans down, angling her hips, forcing herself onto him, taking him in as deeply as she can. Her mouth covers his teeth, his sharp cheekbones, his firm jaw. She moans against him, and he _feels_ it.

Valkyrie will never forget the sight of him when he comes undone. He has no face to give expression to the noise he makes, but he doesn't need one. It's a half-howl, half-sob of someone who never expected to feel again.

Valkyrie drapes herself over him, pressing kisses to his cervical spine. She closes her eyes and breathes, waiting for Skulduggery to move or say something.

It takes a good while; Valkyrie is dozing on his shoulder when one of his gloved hands finds her back, a finger grazing down her spine and making her shudder. "That was..."

"My, my; Skulduggery Pleasant, lacking words? I never thought I'd see the day," she gently teases, nuzzling her face against his jaw. When he doesn't continue, she presses, "Questions - was that an orgasm, does it feel different than it used to, and how do we keep making that happen?"

Skulduggery laughs and leans his head back. "Perhaps, I cannot even begin to remember, and..." He pauses before turning his gaze to her again. "And we keep practising."

"You are the most amazing person," she tells him, and she isn't even exaggerating. It's embarrassing how much she admires him. Loves him.

"I am."

"Oh."

"You are not too bad, either."

"Cheers."

Skulduggery pulls her back against him. "You are marvellous. All of you. Even the parts that fantasise about murdering me."

She melts. "Right back at you."

 

* * *

 


	5. The Murder Skull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five, in which Caelan holds up his end of a bargain and Skulduggery reunites with his skull.

* * *

 

Valkyrie is well-rested for the first time in a long time when she pulls up outside of the Midnight Hotel. The building planted in place a few hours prior - when Valkyrie was supposed to arrive - but the morning has been a long series of attempts to climb out of bed that ended in her shoving herself back at her lover.

But, this is not a social call, and Valkyrie does her best to compose herself to a standard that befits an Arbiter. She beeps the lock on her new car - a ridiculous purple monstrosity, much to Skulduggery's horror - and tosses her hair out of her face, striding up to the doors.

The foyer is bright and cheerful, and a man is sitting on a lovely couch, waiting for her. She doesn't pause even though the man has the most beautiful eyes Valkyrie has seen. They attempt to pin her into place, but she keeps moving as if she doesn't notice. As if she doesn't realise what he is. As if she isn't slightly terrified.

"Valkyrie Cain," he softly greets.

"Caelan," she returns. She crosses the remaining space between them, sitting on a chair opposite. "So?"

Caelan glances over his shoulder; a man is watching them from the desk, his gaze heavy. "I reached out to Thames Chabon," Caelan says, tone smooth. "He confirmed that, yes, he is the owner of the Murder Skull. He also said that he has no interest in selling to an unknown buyer."

"So meet him," she shrugs as if it's nothing. If Valkyrie had to climb out of bed for something this damned simple -

"He does not deal with vampires. If I stepped within a kilometre of his home-"

Valkyrie's eyes shift back to the desk; the man behind it is stepping toward them, his features arranged somberly. "Caelan," he murmurs, but his eyes never leave Valkyrie. "Does your guest require a room?"

"I don't; thanks," Valkyrie interrupts with a forced, unamused smile. "I'll be going shortly."

The man nods and returns to his post, but he is unabashedly watching them.

"I concern him," Caelan says with no emotion behind the words.

"I imagine you concern a lot of people; Chabon included, I guess." She settles back in her seat and regards the vampire. "Do you have his location? I can visit him myself."

"I would not suggest that. Chabon is not known for his treatment of unannounced visitors."

"I'm an Arbiter," she reminds him. "No one likes unannounced Arbiters, but they tend to get over it or die fairly quickly." Caelan doesn't react. "So," she continues, "would you mind passing the address along?"

Caelan sets his jaw but takes his phone from the coffee table between them. Valkyrie feels hers vibrate in her back pocket but ignores it, eyes scanning the rest of the lobby. It's silent, watched over by its proprietor but nothing else.

"I can assist you with other things, if you would like," Caelan suddenly offers when Valkyrie begins to stand. "Anytime."

She hesitates. "This wasn't part of our agreement." It had been straightforward - she found the vampire who was _actually_ turning mortals, unchecked, through Ireland; in return for Caelan's exoneration from the Sanctuary, he promised to spearhead her search for the Murder Skull.

"It was not," he agrees slowly, "but that agreement is done. Now I offer my help without strings."

"Why?"

His eyes bore into hers, see through her. "You are bound for many terrible and wonderful things. I wish to see them."

Valkyrie knows the words should terrify her, but they're oddly hypnotic. "Thanks," she replies finally. "I'll...let you know."

She gets to her feet and heads for the door, ignoring the weight of Caelan's eyes on her back.

 

* * *

 

"I have a job," Valkyrie calls when she comes into her house. Skulduggery has brought Xena to Grimwood with him, and the dog trots toward her, tail wagging. She grins and lowers herself to the floor, rubbing the dog's belly.

Skulduggery emerges from the study and comes down the steps. "Oh? I was unaware you began doing your own legwork."

"Are you calling me lazy?"

"Hardly, I am calling you under-motivated." He steps on a squeaker toy that nearly blends into the rug. Xena squirms up and charges his shoe, paws scrabbling at the leather while she tries to pull the toy free with her uncoordinated jaws.

Valkyrie forgets the insult and is now grinning madly. "I love you."

"I love you," Skulduggery returns, sounding a little surprised.

"What? Oh, I meant Xena. But I love you, too," she adds, patting her hands on the floor and drawing Xena back. The dog gently gnaws on her waggling fingers, rolling onto her back for maximum belly-tickles.

"I knew this was a terrible idea, letting Fletcher get you the dog," Skulduggery pretends to be offended by Xena's showmanship.

Valkyrie snorts and glances up at him. Xena nibbles the necromancer ring and a little tendril of shadow snakes out to tease Xena's nose into a sneeze. Valkyrie takes pity on Skulduggery and returns to her original topic. "The job isn't on the books."

"Ah. I should have assumed as much."

Valkyrie is trying not to laugh, but Xena's tongue is attempting to lick the shadow tendril out of her ring. "I can't even tell you what we're after."

"What we're _after?"_

"We're after an item, that's all. It's a bit of a caper."

"This sounds less like a job and more like stealing."

"...It kind of is? But it's also justice; it'll be fun, I swear."

Skulduggery considers her with his empty sockets. Finally, he says, "I suppose we haven't had much fun in a while."

"So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

Valkyrie grins and abandons Xena to wrap her arms around Skulduggery's waist. "You never asked if it's dangerous."

"Is it?"

"My split-second thought is that no, it will be quite simple. But at the same time, I haven't considered anything other than getting inside the house, causing a distraction, and stealing back something that doesn't belong there."

Skulduggery doesn't say anything, so Valkyrie flicks the tattoos on his collarbones. The facade isn't anything to write home about, but his expression is sheer perfection. He's catching onto her, but he hasn't made the full connection yet.

"Who does this 'something' belong to, Valkyrie?"

"Me, very shortly."

Skulduggery nods as if he isn't surprised. "I feel like I should remind you that we are the highest independent force in the magical community, and thus we should never abuse our powers for personal gain."

"But?"

"But you have broken me."

Valkyrie grins, biting her lip. "I've broken you?"

"Yes, in much the same way that your daughter is currently breaking my shoe."

Valkyrie pulls back and finds Xena on her side, paws wrapped around Skulduggery's shoe, teething the edge. "Hey!" Valkyrie says, but Xena merely wags her tail, watching her while continuing to chew. Valkyrie tries to stop from laughing, but it leaves her in a snort through her nose that sends Xena scampering and Skulduggery asking if she's alright.

"I love her so much," she says.

 

* * *

 

Thames Chabon doesn't trust them; Skulduggery can't say that he blames the man, though. Especially when his next words are, "Do you have another associate, Ms Cain?"

Valkyrie tilts her head, but her expression doesn't change. "That is an odd response to my question of 'May we come in so we can discuss the origin of one of your pieces'?"

Chabon steps aside, mouth tugged into a firm line. "I find it strange that Arbiters arrive on my doorstep days after I received questions about selling one of my pieces. I assume you are referring to the Murder Skull?"

Skulduggery goes very still; Valkyrie's lips twitch upward.

"I am, actually," Valkyrie murmurs, face placid. The tunic she chose for the evening is low and wide scooped, showing off the top of her scarred y-incision. Her coat has opened a bit to display it, and Chabon's face blanches when he notices. Some part of Skulduggery loves the sadistic pleasure she gets out of shocking people.

"See, I found an old case that our predecessors worked on back in the day." She pulls a file from inside of her coat - Skulduggery doesn't quite understand from where - and absently waves it. He's fairly sure there's nothing inside of it. "It was a murder committed with a skull stolen from China Sorrows."

Chabon's eyes widen, and he steps back. He waves his hand and the guards around them leave. "That's impossible," he whispers harshly.

"I assure you it is not," Skulduggery interjects smoothly, surprising Valkyrie. "China has many artefacts stolen from her; she doesn't like to talk about it, of course, but it happens. This was taken at the same time the Sceptre of the Ancients went missing."

"That's a fairytale," Chabon insists, but he looks increasingly close to wetting himself.

"Again, you would be wrong," Valkyrie murmurs, her voice dipping a little, sounding apologetic while offering bald-faced lies. "We aren't here on China's orders - we merely need to analyse the item you have to ensure this is not the _real_ skull used to murder fifteen school children in 1994."

"Oh God," Chabon's eyes are wide and horrified. "Yes, God, please. Right through here-"

"You said someone else called you about the skull?" Skulduggery suddenly interrupts. Valkyrie turns her eyes to him, trying to convey that he should shut up. "Who was that?"

Chabon blinks. "I -- I don't recall his name. I assumed he was one of yours...?"

"He is not," Valkyrie says firmly. "Where is the skull?"

A loud crash makes Chabon fall back, yelping. One of his wall-length windows has shattered, and his guards swarm it, shouting, commanding them to fall back.

"Which room is the skull in?" Valkyrie demands, pulling Chabon back from the view of the window, blocking his cowering body with her own.

"Down the hall, last room at the end," he whines, and she nods to Skulduggery.

Skulduggery leaves them there, pushing through into a small, intimate library. On top of the mantle, macabre but tasteful, is his skull.

_His. Skull._

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie can't stop staring during the drive back to Grimwood; the look of amazement on her face is one that makes him wish he could preen.

"Forget everything I ever said," she murmurs, "not all skulls look the same."

"I am an impressive specimen." He waits a moment before asking, "I assume the attack on the house was your distraction?"

"It works because it's simple."

"And about this associate of yours."

"Oh God," Valkyrie groans, turning in her seat to stare ahead.

"Would this person happen to be a vampire named Caelan?"

Valkyrie's curiosity gets the better of her stubbornness, and she turns back toward him. "How did you know that?"

"I do read your reports, you know," Skulduggery replies. "He was in gaol, and he convinced you to look into his case while passing you in the hall. For some reason, you listened to the shackled monster and did as he asked. You found out he wasn't the one turning thralls. You found the real vampire menace, and Caelan went free."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it sounds like you don't agree with his innocence?"

"No vampire is innocent, Valkyrie."

"You sound like Grouse."

"I sound like a person who knows that no vampire is ever tamed."

"Okay, this conversation is feeling a little hostile," Valkyrie interrupts. "Caelan has connections - he said he could look into the Murder Skull for me. He claimed he owed me a debt and that he'd do the legwork for free. And he did."

"I assume you only met with him at midday?"

Valkyrie makes a face. "I don't like this paternal thing you're doing right now." Before he can reply, she groans, "He lives at the Midnight Hotel; he's locked in all night, constantly under guard. He's not a danger to me, Skulduggery."

That does seem to lighten the tension. "Well then, perhaps he isn't entirely terrible."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes again but accepts the win gracefully. Just before they get to the house, she asks, "That thing you said about the Sceptre of the Ancients...was that true? Does it exist?"

"God, no," Skulduggery laughs. "I'd imagine someone would have found it by now if it did. Things seldom stay hidden for long."

Tanith's motorbike is in front of the dead rosebushes near Valkyrie's front door; Valkyrie hops out of the Bentley, rushing into the house. She comes to the living room and finds Tanith sprawled across the couch, watching television with Xena stretched across her torso.

"Don't you dare move," Valkyrie says before Tanith can so much as greet her. Valkyrie snaps a photo of the blonde and the dog; she then attempts to slide onto the couch with them for a selfie. That ends in Valkyrie on the floor, her phone on Tanith's face, and Xena springboarding off of Tanith's ribs.

Skulduggery enters the scene, watches for a moment, and then pronounces, "This seems to be the proper time for me to make tea for you and then be on my way."

When Skulduggery leaves the room, and Tanith can finally breathe, the pair curl up on the couch. Tanith's head goes to Valkyrie's shoulder, and Valkyrie rests hers on top. "I have to tell you something," Tanith murmurs, her voice tremoring with excitement.

Valkyrie pulls away and zeros in on the gossipy tone. "I don't even care what it is; you have to tell me immediately."

"How are you this attention starved when you practically live attached to Skulduggery's hip?" Tanith laughs.

"Your drama is always full of sexy quips and stuff."

Tanith bites her lower lip and leans in, her forehead pressing against Valkyrie's. "Don't scream when I tell you, yeah?"

"Of course not; screaming is unbecoming."

"...Ghastly and I had dinner last night."

"What?!" Valkyrie harshly whispers, quivering with the need for details.

"And we might have, perhaps, kind of...snogged."

"Oh my God!" Valkyrie shouts, and Tanith falls back, covering her ears, wincing but laughing. "This is...oh my God. I am so happy, I can't-" she breaks off because Skulduggery is coming in, drawn by the hysterics. "We're fine, everything is fine," Valkyrie shoos him away before pressing her forehead against Tanith's again. "Oh my God."

Tanith sobres a bit. "He's still mad at Skul. Obviously."

"I can't really blame him."

"Me and him going together...isn't going to make things harder for you two, will it? I mean, I'm going to keep seeing him anyway, but."

Valkyrie grabs Tanith's hands and squeezes them. "Forget about that. Ghastly's fantastic, you're fantastic, and the rest can figure itself out."

"So I guess that means he can come round some night?"

"Of course. You walked in on Skulduggery and me - I think it's only fair I get to return that favour."

"You're such a degenerate," Tanith giggles.

Skulduggery returns with their tea; before he leaves, he says, "Valkyrie, I thought we might look into something a little closer to home tomorrow."

Valkyrie quirks a brow at him. They haven't run a real case together since Russia. "Both of us?"

"Yes," he says pleasantly. "It turns out that your new associate might be able to steer us in the direction of an old friend of mine."

"Is this old friend a vampire?"

"He is."

"And is he actually an old friend, or is this another one of those 'this person wants to kill me as soon as speak to me' moments?"

"The latter, yes."

Valkyrie shrugs, strangely fine with the development. "Sure. I'll let him know we'll drop in tomorrow."

 

* * *

 


	6. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six, in which Caelan assists Skulduggery and Valkyrie; Skulduggery and Valkyrie revisit a months-old idea; and Ghastly is interrupted twice.

* * *

 

"What makes you think that Caelan will have any idea about this Dusk guy?"

"The vampire community is quite secretive, and the familial bonds are their main source of knowledge. Word travels."

The Midnight Hotel begins to form. It builds itself up from the foundation in front of them; Valkyrie, never having seen it materialise before, watches in awe. "This is so cool," she murmurs as the form of the rooms take shape.

"I am sure Anton will be pleased to hear you say so."

"If that's the proprietor, I doubt it. He didn't seem too keen on me when I was last here."

"He might have a different opinion now," Skulduggery shrugs. When the building settles, he adjusts his hat and nods to Valkyrie. "Anton Shudder is an old friend." And then he's moving, and Valkyrie trots to catch up to his long strides.

"Really?" she asks, sceptical as he opens the door. "Seems a little straight-laced for you."

"We all have our pasts," he supplies, cryptic as ever, and enters.

The proprietor, Anton Shudder, comes from a back room and pauses when he sees them. He spares Valkyrie only the slightest of glances before saying, "Skulduggery Pleasant. To what do I owe this darkening of my door?"

"The same as usual - curiosity and a bit of mischief."

Shudder's stern face breaks into a smile, and Valkyrie relaxes. "It is good to see you, old friend," Shudder says, stepping toward them. Now his eyes do meet Valkyrie's. "And it is a pleasure to see you again, Ms...?"

"Valkyrie Cain, Skulduggery's favourite Arbiter partner."

"Well..."

Valkyrie raises a brow at him. "Don't even pretend, skeleton."

Shudder laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners with fondness. "Well, that is a relief to hear. When we met, I was concerned you were a misguided soul looking for immortality."

"If anything, I am a misguided soul looking for death on a daily basis."

"I now understand how you put up with Skulduggery's foolishness."

"I hate to cut the social part short," Skulduggery begins; Shudder nods, shifting back to professionalism, "but we hope to speak with the vampire again if he is around."

"He is probably in his room. I can fetch him if you'd like."

Before they can say anything, Caelan is breezing toward them. He looks especially gorgeous - tousled as if from sleep but probably from a fresh transformation. His skin is positively dewy.

"Valkyrie; I thought I heard your voice," he greets her, but his sharp eyes are trained on Skulduggery.

"Hi, Caelan," she greets, unnerved by the way the vampire is sizing up Skulduggery. "This is-"

"Arbiter Skulduggery Pleasant," Caelan finishes, unblinkingly. "I have heard a story or two."

"I'm memorable that way," Skulduggery says lightly, sweeping a hand toward the lobby. "A moment of your time?" When the three are seated, Caelan still on edge, Skulduggery continues, "I am looking for an old friend; Dusk."

Caelan is abruptly standing, and Valkyrie thinks he might lunge at Skulduggery. Skulduggery pulls his gun, pointing it at the vampire. "Sit," he says.

"Skulduggery," Shudder warns, coming to the sitting area. "There will be no harm done to my guests."

Skulduggery doesn't move for a moment; eventually, he replaces the gun and smoothes his hands across his lap. "You were about to say?"

Caelan quietly fumes until he growls, turning to the fireplace. "I know Dusk, yes, but I avoid him at all cost."

"Why?" Valkyrie asks.

Caelan turns to look at her; his eyes bore into hers. "I killed his lover. Dusk has perfected the art of holding grudges, and I am a part of that. So here I stay - cowardly, protected within these walls."

"What about Moloch?" Skulduggery presses. "Surely Moloch can protect you; he turned you, did he not?"

"I am not one of his family; not anymore. I killed another vampire - nevermind the good intentions - and for that, I was cast out."

"We can protect you," Valkyrie offers. Skulduggery doesn't disagree, so she continues. "If you can help us track down Dusk - just to ask some questions, mind you - then we can help you relocate. Or...I'm not sure, vampire family adoption?"

Caelan looks hurt at the suggestion; Valkyrie doesn't understand why until he moves toward her, so fast she almost misses his journey. One of his hands finds hers, and she freezes beneath his fingers. "I have no intention of leaving Ireland. Not now."

"Okay," Valkyrie begins slowly, pulling her hand out from under his. "Well, we can figure out the details later. What can you tell us?"

Caelan eventually gives them an address to an old, dilapidated tenement building, long since condemned but never followed up on. Skulduggery goes outside to call Fletcher; Caelan catches Valkyrie's arm before she can leave, turning her to face him. Valkyrie frowns. She isn't fond of how much the vampire touches her, but she isn't about to upset him.

"You cannot go," he murmurs in an undertone, still holding her arm. "I will not let you go."

 _"Let_ me go?" she repeats, too bewildered to take offence.

"I need you to be safe," he murmurs. The tone is somehow more alarming than the words.

"You don't get to _need_ _me_ for anything," Valkyrie replies firmly, pulling herself free. "Thanks for the information, but we're done here. Text me if you remember something else we can use."

She leaves before he can say anything else, emerging into the weak sunlight. Skulduggery hangs up his phone and turns as she approaches. A facade covers his face and lets her know that he's concerned. "Is everything alright?" he asks. Valkyrie forces a smile and nods, sliding into the passenger seat of the Bentley. When Skulduggery joins her, he presses, "Are you sure?"

"It's nothing," she shrugs, rolling her neck to loosen it. "Just a bit stressed, maybe. Lots going on, more questions than answers..."

"It can be quite frustrating," he agrees.

He swings the Bentley toward Dublin, and then the Liffey. Valkyrie isn't sure where they're going, but then groans when they pull up outside of a small restaurant. "Why?"

"I am sure everyone within a kilometre of you can hear your stomach rumbling."

It's true - she's so damned hungry - but she doesn't want to admit it. "Did Gordon ingrain a feeding schedule into your skull?"

"No, your stomach's growling is like an alarm of its own." Skulduggery gets out of the car and comes round to her side, helping her out even though he knows she hates it. Something about it is mildly charming now, though, and Valkyrie lingers in his grasp for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.

They sit outside even though it's cold, the wind whipping Valkyrie's hair around. Skulduggery's hat always stays in place, and Valkyrie finally figures out how. "You manipulate the wind around you; that's how you never look dishevelled," she says suddenly. When he glances up at her, his facade's dark eyes amused, she frowns at him. "And yet you never offer to help me against the elements."

"Had you made a better choice and not turned to Adept magic, then perhaps you wouldn't need help."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes but smiles when the wind settles around her, small wisps teasing her hair without tangling it.

"I wanted to ask you something," Skulduggery says after she orders her food. He steeples his fingers a bit, leaning across the table and lowering his voice. "Do you remember asking me if we could take a small vacation?"

"The Australia one? God, that feels like forever ago."

"I thought, once we find Dusk and ensure he isn't planning on doing something stupid, we could revisit the idea. I think Xena might enjoy the beaches."

Valkyrie bites her lower lip, unable to quell her smile. "I would love to, but...not Australia. Somewhere warm, though."

Skulduggery nods once before leaning back, smiling at her. "I just realised - you remind me of one of those little dogs. The ones that shiver all of the time."

"There is no situation in which this ends well for you."

"You do surprisingly poorly in the winter. Are you sure you aren't half troll?"

"Wow, you just keep digging," she tries to frown, but her smile is overpowering her.

"Trolls are known for their-"

Valkyrie gets up to lean across the bistro table, pressing her lips to his. "Stop. Talking."

When she pulls away, and Skulduggery's eyes meet hers, his gaze is soft. It makes Valkyrie squirm a little, but mostly in a good way. "About Dusk," she says to collect herself, to return to the topic at hand.

"Ah, yes. Dusk."

 

* * *

 

Ghastly is preparing to go to his weekly meeting with the Elders when Detective Davina Marr strides into his office with an update on her current case - responding to an odd patch of land known as Aranmore Farm.

"It's empty out there," Marr informs him. "Nothing but scraggle and dirt." Her thick New-England accent makes Ghastly's head hurt; it might have nothing to do with her accent, he tries to reason. Maybe it's just _her._

"Did you speak to the owner?"

"It's all in the report," she replies as if she didn't start the conversation. Even so, she continues, "The owner is some old mortal man, Hanratty. He's nothing."

A knock draws Ghastly's eyes to the doorway. Tanith is leaning against the doorjamb; her trousers have flecks of mud - and possibly blood - and her hair is wild as if caught in a gale. And that _smile._ "Sorry to interrupt," she begins with that simper that makes Ghastly's knees weak. "I just got back from London and thought you might help me with the reporting? Silly me, always forgetting how to properly file."

Marr rolls her eyes and raises a brow at Ghastly. He smiles at Marr and says, "Well, I suppose it's all in this report, so you may leave. Unless there is something else?"

Marr looks as if she has a lemon slice in her mouth. "There is not," she replies, clipped, and forces a smile. Tanith steps out of the way for Marr, but Marr's shoulder catches Tanith's even so.

"Lovely," Tanith murmurs, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her. She glides across the space between them before Ghastly can stand. Ghastly makes a small noise of surprise when she brushes files and leaflets away from his desk and settles herself on the wood in front of him.

"How was London?" he asks even though his heart is hammering. She smells like leather and earth, sweat. Ghastly rolls his chair a little closer, and she widens her legs to account for the chair's width.

"It was cold and wet," she murmurs, leaning back on her palms. "I ran into Springheeled again."

"And?"

"He is currently sleeping off a concussion and broken arm in the English Sanctuary."

"I assumed nothing less," he replies, moving his hands to her thighs, pulling her a bit closer. Her trousers slip across the wood without an issue, and she chuckles, leaning down to press her lips to his.

"Are you still behind on orders?" Tanith asks against his mouth, not moving back. Ghastly is sure the curve of her spine will begin hurting soon, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"I always am. But that doesn't mean I don't need the occasional break - for dinner, perhaps?"

"To start," she purrs; Ghastly's heart hammers against his chest at her tone.

He gets to his feet, the chair rocketing back and making Tanith bite her lower lip, trying to keep her smile contained and failing. Ghastly moves against her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her with everything he can muster. She coils against him, tugging at his shirt, fingers nimbly unbuttoning it with lightning speed.

He isn't quite sure how or when it happens, but Tanith has lost her shirt, and her trousers are undone. She's laid out across the desk with Ghastly above her; she's softly panting while Ghastly trails his lips down her neck and sternum, only stopping when her bra halts his mouth.

He is reaching around her back - pulling her up into rough, open-mouthed kisses and unclasping her bra - when the door opens. Ghastly freezes, surprised that there wasn't a knock, that Tanith didn't lock or glaze the door, that he lost his senses enough to let someone walk into _this._

China is staring at the display before her, understanding in an instant but attempting to convince herself that something else is happening. And then she sighs, closes the door behind her, and murmurs, "Tanith. It's always a pleasure to unexpectedly see you."

"You, too," Tanith smiles as if Ghastly's hands aren't the only things keeping her bra from sliding over her breasts. "I just...came to see if Ghastly wanted to get some lunch."

China quirks a brow. "Unless the lunch is you, I am not sure why this is the result of your question."

Ghastly clears his throat and begins to pull away from Tanith, making sure she has hold of her bra before he fully departs. He helps her off the desk, and she rights her trousers, unabashed.

"Supreme Mage," he begins slowly, buttoning his shirt into place. "How may I help you?"

China's eyes narrow, but she seems more perplexed than upset. "I came to collect you for the Council meeting."

"You came yourself?" Tanith asks, blase as if she isn't righting her brassiere in the middle of an Elder's office in front of the Supreme Mage.

"I did," is all China says.

Luckily, Tanith doesn't press and slides into her tunic, and then her jacket. She smiles and kisses Ghastly's cheek before murmuring, "Let me know when we can have that dinner."

She leaves; Ghastly watches her backside as she goes, hating himself for it. When he regains himself, when Tanith is out of sight, China is waiting. "I-"

China dismissively waves her hand. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. You and Skulduggery always go for the most ostentatious of partners."

Ghastly doesn't know how to answer that.

"Keep that troublemaker out of your office if you can't control yourself." She turns to leave; Ghastly finishes righting his clothing, slips into his robe, and follows after.

 

* * *

 


	7. Little Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven, in which Skulduggery is taken by surprise and Valkyrie learns more than she bargains for.

* * *

 

"The Skeleton Detective and his protegee. And why, might I ask, have two of the Sanctuary's brightest wandered into my home?"

Skulduggery watches Moloch for a moment, analysing, taking in the way he drapes on his chair, how he doesn't seem the least bit concerned about anything. "We are not solely Sanctuary operatives any more; Ms Cain and I are Arbiters."

"I have no earthly idea what that is."

"We're basically if detectives had unchecked power, scope, and resources," Valkyrie replies, impatiently shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She sounds bored, but Skulduggery can tell she's tense; her ring keeps leaking a single shadow tendril which possessively wraps around her finger.

"Oh, that sounds like a reasonable amount of power to wield," he laughs; he looks genuinely amused when he leans toward them, not close enough to be concerning, but enough that the shadow tendril tenses, preparing to strike. "Just between us girls, what stops you from breaking bad?"

Valkyrie looks confused, more than likely thinking about the television show she made him watch months ago. Skulduggery sometimes forgets how young she is. "Our virtue, of course," is Skulduggery's response.

Moloch spends another minute laughing, trying to get himself under control, and then laughing again. "Oh, Pleasant," he chuckles when he calms. "Thank you for that. That is the best laugh I've had in...well, a very long time." He coughs a little and smiles at them - it isn't pleasant; it's predatory. "So, _Arbiters._ How may I assist?"

"We are looking for a vampire," Skulduggery says. "An old friend of mine. Dusk."

Moloch does not look amused anymore. "Dusk has no friends. His last friend died a century ago."

"Well, he might have forgotten to mention me. We go way back."

"I'm sure you do," Moloch says, and his tone is hard. There's something sharp to it, like glass rolling through his mouth. Moloch's eyes turn to Valkyrie; his face darkens a little more. It takes everything within Skulduggery not to reach out to her, not to pull her back from the hunger in Moloch's eyes.

"Moloch," Valkyrie says, which only makes Moloch's eyes further shade. "I am assuming we're cutting into your feeding time, given the long line of shaky mortals outside of your door."

"That you are," he nods slightly, but his eyes don't move, they don't blink.

"So, perhaps instead of us attempting to make you chuckle, we can skip to where Dusk is? Then we will be on our merry way, go ask Dusk a few questions, and then you'll never see us again."

"It would be a shame never to see _you_ again, Ms Cain. I despise turning humans without real reason, but you...you would make a beautiful vampire."

"I'm less than not interested."

"Strong, too. Stronger than most."

Skulduggery does reach out this time, grasping Valkyrie's arm and drawing her out of Moloch's immediate range. "When was the last time you saw Dusk?"

Moloch's gaze is hard and only for Valkyrie. "I saw him this morning. He's upstairs." His smile widens. "Come sit with me for a moment, Ms Cain. I won't bite."

"No thanks, I think I'll go upstairs and say hi to Dusk."

Moloch is moving before Valkyrie can stumble back. Skulduggery grabs his gun, but a thrall rushes him, seizing his arm and tearing it back. The shot goes wide, a bullet sliding into the dilapidated room above them.

Moloch has Valkyrie in a chokehold, but Valkyrie, somehow, doesn't panic. She shoves an elbow into his ribs and swings a hit to his face with the back of her head when he loosens his grip. She takes his arm and wrenches it down, her boot finding his face three times before she trips, upended by another vampire rushing her braced leg.

Skulduggery punches the vampire holding him; it is attempting to tear through his suit with its teeth even though there is nothing bite, nothing to get purchase on. Skulduggery's left elbow joins the fray; the thrall stumbles back, howling.

Skulduggery twists to grab Valkyrie, but she isn't there. Neither is Moloch.

"Valkyrie!" he bellows, but there is no response.

Another vampire slams into him. And then another.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie stares at Moloch. Moloch stares back. Neither of them blinks or moves. Moloch has a set of scratch marks to his jaw from where Valkyrie's scrabbling fingers found him, but Valkyrie is sporting a cut to her forehead that keeps bleeding into her eyebrows and dripping into her eyes, onto her cheeks.

"Your blood smells amazing," Moloch tells her. "There's something about it. I couldn't have you in there with the others - the others would eat you in a moment. They'd devour you until you were nothing but scraps."

Valkyrie doesn't move. The animal is there, right behind his eyes, and Valkyrie knows better than to test her strength against a vampire while on even footing. She certainly knows not to test it when the vampire is the one with the upper hand.

"But you're too special for that," Moloch continues, brushing a finger across the gash. The pain draws an unintended gasp from Valkyrie and Moloch shudders.

"Would you be willing to let me go if I ask nicely?" Valkyrie tries, not sure what else there is to do.

Moloch laughs; his breath is coppery, like pennies, and makes Valkyrie's blood run cold. She tries to keep her pulse even, to breathe in and out as if she was sitting on the couch reading a boring book. But each time Moloch so much as twitches, her heart betrays her.

"I like you," he says, still smiling.

Valkyrie swallows. If Valkyrie keeps him laughing, if she keeps him smiling, she might have a window of time, a split-second, where she can get free. She doesn't know where an exit is, though, and she certainly can't jump up the way they came. Not faster than Moloch can, anyway. "I'm not very likeable."

"That's probably why I like you. I don't fancy people as a rule, but sometimes someone comes along to give me hope."

"Was Dusk one of those who gave you hope?" she asks, focusing on her breaths. In. Out. Darquesse is on standby, pulsing with excitement. Her anxious energy is making the necromancy ring sputter silent shadows behind her back, coiling where the wall pins it.

Moloch isn't laughing anymore; the monster peeks out at her a little more, and Darquesse readies. "Why do you wish to speak to him?"

"We have questions - why he came back to Ireland. If he's here for a vendetta. That kind of thing."

"Moloch." The voice comes from the shaded back corner of the apartment. Moloch's hand tightens on Valkyrie, but he waits. "I would like to speak to her," the voice purrs.

Moloch smiles and steps away, hands up, empty, non-threatening. "We vampires are family, Arbiter," he says to her as he goes back the way he came. "We may not like one another, but we do not turn on each other. Not even for pretty faces."

Valkyrie wants to ask about Caelan, about why Moloch turned on him - but her throat is remarkably bite-free, and she'd like to keep it that way. "Skulduggery?" she asks.

"I'll send him up. Whatever's left, anyway." And then Moloch is gone, and the figure in the corner moves toward her.

Dusk is gorgeous, and it makes Valkyrie irrationally mad. It isn't fair that they're all so damned beautiful.

His lips quirk a little when their eyes meet. "I am unsure if I should be touched that my arrival to these shores brings the skeleton knocking."

"Be touched," Valkyrie tries to look intimidating, but she can't stop staring at his lips. She shakes herself off, blinking at the ground for ten seconds to focus. It usually works when China hoodwinks her without warning. "Are you all this good-looking?"

Dusk's laugh is gorgeous, too. Valkyrie swallows and chances a look. "Come," he murmurs, turning and walking through a punched-out hole in the plaster between the flats. Valkyrie doesn't want to follow, but she has Dusk in front of her and Moloch behind her. Between the two, she'll take her chances with the former.

The next room has a fallen ceiling leading upward. Dusk glides up the surface without issue, all grace and poise, and Valkyrie sighs. Damnit - Tanith always tells her that wall-walking is an essential talent, and Valkyrie's beginning to believe it.

She trips her way up, sliding backwards more times than she cares to admit. Dusk is in a chair angled toward her, smiling, loving watching her struggle. The expression isn't cruel, but it's still unnerving.

Finally, Valkyrie realises that she's making it harder on herself than she needs to. She uses a wave of shadow to lift her up and over the edge. "Thanks for the help," she says without meaning to. Skulduggery's right - her mouth is going to get her killed one of these days.

A pounding on a door in the corner alerts Valkyrie that Skulduggery has found them. "Valkyrie!" he shouts, but Valkyrie doesn't move.

"I'm fine!" she calls back. "Give me a minute!" Her eyes go to Dusk. "You're not going to lunge for me, right? I can be in here alone with you?"

Dusk splays his hands, showing her that no harm is coming. "Your questions, Arbiter?"

"Skulduggery is the one with the questions."

"And yet Mr Pleasant is out there, and you are in here." Valkyrie doesn't move, and Dusk chuckles softly. "I do not trust him, Ms Cain. I have no opinions on you - yet."

Valkyrie collects herself. She saunters toward him, taking a seat on a sagging floral couch. "Why are you in Ireland?"

"Would you believe that I wanted to sight-see?"

"No."

"Then you are wise." Dusk watches her, analyses. "You asked Moloch if I am here for a vendetta. What makes you think that?"

"Because a vampire killed your lover. You probably found out that he lost his protection, and then you found out where he is hiding."

God, his smile is breathtaking and terrifying. "You understand, then. You understand that revenge is something that never leaves, that never dies until those who wronged you are lifeless beneath your fingers."

"It's Skulduggery's theory; I'm just along for the ride."

"Ah, but you heard that theory, all of those assumptions, and you _understood._ No one is born understanding vengeance, Ms Cain; it is learned."

Valkyrie meets his gaze and doesn't waver. "Are you in Ireland to kill Caelan?"

"Would you care if I were?"

"We're Arbiters; we're supposed to stop crime. So, yeah, I'd say I care."

"I smell him on you. You may know Caelan personally, but do you know him well? Do you know his little...habits?"

Valkyrie's chest goes cold because there is something in Dusk's voice that confirms her worries without words. It reinforces the shot of fear she felt both times Caelan touched her today. "Are you here to kill Caelan?" she asks again, but her voice isn't nearly as steady.

Dusk leans toward her, just a fraction, and murmurs, "He obsesses, Caelan does. He finds women - dark-eyed, dark-haired - and he pines for them. He loves them from afar." His eyes narrow. "And then his love turns to violence, Ms Cain. Each time."

She tries to do her job - she tries to repeat the only question that matters. But what comes out is not that question. "What does he do?"

"He stalks, tortures, and then kills."

Valkyrie lets out a soft noise and looks away from Dusk. "How many women?"

"That I am aware of, twelve. You would be lucky number thirteen."

"And he killed your lover?"

"He did. Hrishi wanted to stop Caelan. He was a bit of a poet at heart. Good. As good as we can be, I suppose."

Valkyrie glances at him again. "Are you here to kill Caelan?"

"I am." Valkyrie gets to her feet, but Dusk doesn't rise, doesn't flinch, doesn't attempt to stop her. "Am I under arrest?" he asks, but he knows the answer.

"No," she whispers. And then she fumbles her way toward the door and into Skulduggery's waiting arms.

"What happened?" he demands.

"We need to go. Right now."

"Valkyrie, _what happened?"_

"I spoke to Dusk; he's not here for Caelan."

"So he says."

"So he says," she repeats with a poor attempt at a smile. Skulduggery must take it to mean that she's shaken from the vampires because he doesn't immediately suss out the lie. "Let's go," she mumbles. "I think I've lost two litres of blood from this cut."

Skulduggery leads her out of the tenement building. He keeps a watchful eye, anticipating an attack, but Valkyrie knows there isn't one coming.

 

* * *

 


	8. Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eight, in which Caelan expresses his love.

* * *

 

Valkyrie is exhausted, but she keeps circling, she keeps looking for weak points.

"We can stop for the day," Skulduggery offers. He opens his left side up and Valkyrie feints a hit to his jaw only to duck under his reach, her fists finding his ribs. He grunts and falls back, a little chuckle coming out. "Finally - I was beginning to wonder if I was fighting a fish."

Valkyrie snorts, departing to get her water bottle from the weight bench. As she drinks and Skulduggery loosens his stance, her phone chimes. She lets out a little sigh and glances at Skulduggery. "Tanith, Wreath again, or a job?"

"Wreath, I would assume. Have you spoken to him yet?"

"I have no intention of speaking to him," she replies, grabbing her phone and waking it. "I thought you'd appreciate his lack of influence in the house."

"I do appreciate that, yes," Skulduggery begins slowly, "but Wreath is good with Darquesse."

"Darquesse is fine without him," she mumbles, furrowing her brow. The text is from Caelan.

"If _she_ says she is fine without him, all the more reason to call him back in."

But Valkyrie doesn't hear the words because her heart is too busy trying to slide into her throat. "Skulduggery," Valkyrie begins hesitantly. "I think we have a problem." He walks toward her, and she begins reading the text aloud. "Dusk will find me eventually, and I cannot fathom dying without telling you how beautiful you are." A second text comes through; she winces and reads that aloud, too. "You deserve to be cherished, and I can offer you more than you can imagine."

"Caelan," Skulduggery guesses; he glances over her shoulder, reading. "He doesn't know where you live, I hope?"

"Of course not," Valkyrie replies, still staring at his words. Darquesse is intrigued, purring at the thought of a fight with the vampire. "I've only met with him four times in person, always at the gaol or Midnight Hotel."

"And he has never followed you?"

"He's terrified of Dusk; he isn't about to leave the hotel."

Skulduggery nods to himself. "Do not meet with him outside of the hotel unless you have Fletcher or Never with you. Preferably Fletcher, given he's had more combat experience."

Valkyrie nods and deletes the texts. "Yeah, I think that's best."

"I assumed you would try convincing me that he's in control and there is nothing to worry over."

"After Moloch and his lot, I'm a little more hesitant how freely I give my trust to vampires."

"Well, that is something," Skulduggery allows. He brushes his teeth over Valkyrie's healed forehead and murmurs, "I suppose I should see China about Dusk. Would you like to come?"

"No," she murmurs. Her fingers are tingling with anxious energy even after the morning sparring. She considers going down to the cave - she hasn't been in a week or so. "I don't think I can muster the strength needed to talk with her."

"She is a handful," he agrees, brushing her cheek with a gloved hand. "Call me if you need anything."

"I know," she smiles; it comes easily this time, which makes her feel less like a terrible paramour. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course - we have a stakeout."

"A stakeout?" she repeats.

"I don't trust Dusk on the best of days; I figured we might glean something from keeping an eye on the tenement."

"Oh. Joy," she mumbles, secretly hoping Dusk makes his move tonight.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie and Fletcher make it home with lunch and their picks for 1980s horror movies to watch when Valkyrie's phone dings.

"If that's Skulduggery, I am going to kill him," Fletcher groans. "We moved _movie night_ to _movie afternoon_ so he doesn't crash it, and here we are. Crashed."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes and glances at her phone. It's Caelan. Again.

 

 _I need to see you_  
_I have information about Moloch and his dealings_  
_He is using those tenants for drug running_

_That's the Sanctuary's purview._

_I cannot talk to them_  
_They would kill me without a moment's hesitation_

 _I'm not available right now._  
_Skulduggery and I can come over tomorrow morning._

 _This is about saving mortal lives_  
_Moloch is waging war against them_  
_Using them_  
_I can help you bring him down_

 

Valkyrie is ninety-eight-per cent sure that he's trying to trick her, and she's one-hundred-percent sure that the Sanctuary should be the ones to respond. She glances at the time - it's only a bit after three; they'd have at least two hours before nightfall. She sighs and glances up at an already-deflated Fletcher.

"It's Caelan."

"The vampire that wants to either eat or fuck you?"

"That's the one," she murmurs, texting back, _An associate and I will be there within the minute. Lobby._ "Want to take a tiny side-trip to the Midnight Hotel?"

Fletcher groans, glancing longingly at his ancient DVDs of their choices, and then their bag of Chinese takeaway. "Fine," he mumbles, stepping toward her and reaching out his hand. Her fingers fold in his, and they're gone, appearing outside of the Midnight Hotel.

When they enter, Caelan is waiting. He is pacing, eyes blown wide, manic. Fletcher tightens his fingers around Valkyrie's as if he's planning on teleporting them away. Valkyrie removes her hand and steps toward Caelan.

"What information do you have?" she asks. Caelan won't meet her eyes - he's too busy staring at Fletcher. "Did you drag us down here for no reason?" And then, "Where's Anton?" She glances back to Fletcher. "Go find Anton, will you?"

"I'm not leaving your side," is his simple response.

Valkyrie doesn't like the way the men are sizing one another up, so she shoves Fletcher's arm a little. "Go find him. Now."

Fletcher lets out an annoyed huff but does as asked, jogging toward the back room where Shudder usually resides. Valkyrie doesn't take her eyes off of Caelan, and Caelan doesn't take his eyes off of Fletcher's retreating back.

"Is he why you pull away from me?" Caelan asks suddenly.

"Come again?"

Caelan's eyes are on hers again, and she takes an unintentional step backwards. He looks feral. His eyes are the eyes of every vampire she's ever killed, mutilated, burned. "You scorn my love," he insists, stepping toward her. "You want me as much as I want you, but you pull away."

"No," Valkyrie murmurs, standing firm even though he's still progressing. "I don't. I don't even know you."

"You know me. You reach out to me - something inside of you. You call me, and I am trying to answer."

Fletcher and Shudder are coming toward them; Fletcher looks alarmed at Caelan's proximity and teleports between them. "Back off," Fletcher says.

Caelan raises his hand but Shudder growls, "You will not harm anyone within this hotel."

Caelan clenches his fist but releases it, holding himself back. Fletcher doesn't move even when Valkyrie places a hand on his arm, even when she tries to get around him. "It's fine, Fletcher. Anton won't let anything happen."

"I will not," Shudder agrees.

"Valkyrie," Caelan sighs like a prayer. "You have no idea the things I can offer you. Everything. Pain. Pleasure. Immortality."

"We're leaving," Fletcher says, turning to grab Valkyrie's arm.

Caelan moves before their skin can make contact. He barrels into Fletcher, knocking him down and taking Valkyrie with them. She yelps, trapped under Fletcher and the vampire; her arm wrenches out of its socket when she tries to pull free, and she once again curses the easily torn limb.

Shudder grabs Caelan, tries to drag him away, but Caelan thrashes and tosses him off. The vampire yanks Fletcher's head to the side, teeth gleaming, and goes for his jugular.

Valkyrie lets Darquesse in for a moment; the shadows curl out from her free fingertips, wrapping around Caelan's neck and shoving him against the wall. They hold him in place, the darkness expanding, seeking, covering him. Caelan wails and shouts and growls, but Valkyrie holds him still, Darquesse feeding her.

Darquesse makes everything feel sharp around her - the air is cold and biting; Fletcher's body on her right hand is heavy. She can feel her dislocated arm scrape against her shoulder socket. She can feel the air moving as Shudder gets to his feet, trembling as if something inside of him is trying to escape.

"I love you," Caelan bites out, teeth bared at her. "You have no idea the things I can do to you. The things I will do. I will show you the most exquisite-"

Valkyrie tightens the shadows, and Darquesse's chuckle slips past Valkyrie's lips. "You're revolting," she purrs through Valkyrie. "You're depraved."

"And so are you," he breathes, his anger seeming to drain while Darquesse stares out behind Valkyrie's eyes, when she gets to her feet, when her shoulder heals itself. "We will be unstoppable. You and I. Forever."

"I take it you don't have any information for me?" Valkyrie asks, pushing Darquesse back. "You just wanted to, what? Bite me? Torture and kill me like the others?"

"I let those girls free," he insists. "I loved them, and when they couldn't love anymore, when they decayed from the inside, I set their spirits loose."

"Jesus Christ," Fletcher whispers, disgusted.

Shudder has regained his composure and steps toward Valkyrie. "Might you bring him to his room so I can lock him in? I will bring the hotel back tomorrow at noon; the Cleavers should be able to take it from there, I imagine."

"Sounds good," Valkyrie murmurs, swiping the shadows and banging Caelan to the floor. She follows Shudder to room 19 and tosses Caelan inside, not caring when his head dashes against the broken side table by the claw-gouged bed. The door shutters and bars, and Valkyrie withdraws her shadows through the impossibly narrow space between door and floor.

Valkyrie offers Shudder a faint smile. "Let us know if the Cleavers want some help with transport; I'd love to slam his head around some more."

Shudder chuckles, but his concern is still present, still lingering in his gaze. "Are you alright?" he asks before Valkyrie can depart.

She shrugs. "Vampire attacks are becoming my norm."

Valkyrie finds Fletcher downstairs and takes his hand. They're in her kitchen before she can so much as blink. She lets out a soft breath and collects their takeaway; the containers are still hot, and she lets them warm her icy fingers for a moment. "Movies?" she asks.

Fletcher nods, but he looks pale.

 

* * *

 

Valkyrie can't turn her mind off. As much as Caelan's words bothered her, a part of her liked them. She's a pretty girl, she gets compliments frequently, but the sheer force of passion, the promise of pain and desire, make something inside of her heat.

But that's how vampires like Caelan trap their victims. They find the one thing they can use, and then they _twist._

Valkyrie calls off the movie marathon before the second film. Fletcher doesn't question, probably assuming that she is unsettled and distracted by Caelan's attack.

She is. But she isn't.

Fletcher leaves, and Tanith comes home right after. She takes one look at Valkyrie and grins. "Is Skulduggery on his way, then?"

"What?"

"I know that look very, very well," Tanith replies, smooth as ever while sauntering into the kitchen to look for food. "If not Skul, then what has you hot and bothered?"

Valkyrie follows her, wanting to tell her everything but knowing it's a bad idea. "Nothing, just...one of those days." Before Tanith can respond, Valkyrie murmurs, "How's Ghastly?"

Tanith's hand stalls mid-reach. "He's good...?"

"He should come by some night."

Tanith grabs a protein bar and turns, raising a brow. "Sorry?"

"Maybe now?" Valkyrie continues, her smile widening. "I'll step out for the night, and you two can have some space. I'm sure his shop is getting a bit cramped."

"And China already walked in on us in Ghastly's office," Tanith murmurs thoughtfully.

Valkyrie leans forward. She tries not to let her mind wander to what China might have seen, but Valkyrie is having trouble keeping her mind away from depravity. "And?"

Tanith arches a brow at her, the smile slowly widening. "Oh my God, Val. You know I'm far from shy, but I'm not sure I should be flaming this mood of yours. Is Darquesse anxious?"

"No," Valkyrie admits. This is all her. She pushes off the counter and grabs her phone from her back pocket. The text to Skulduggery is simple - _I'm coming over. Home?_ "Well, you should invite Ghastly over. I'm heading out."

"Do I need to worry about cameras all over?"

"Only in your bedroom," she teases, making Tanith laugh. And then she's heading to the door, not even bothering to change or brush her hair. Her belly is flaming, begging, and she's not about to deal with it by herself.

Her phone vibrates, and it sends butterflies through her abdomen. She glances at Skulduggery's response - _The door is open_ \- and then starts the car.

 

* * *

 


	9. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Nine, in which Darquesse and Vile have a supervised playdate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: Sexual Violence (Vile-ish Skulduggery/Darquesse-ish Valkyrie)

* * *

  
Skulduggery hears the front door opening; he doesn't glance up from where he is filling Xena's water bowl in the kitchen sink. He waits, listening for the telltale noises of Valkyrie and Xena making themselves at home. And yet, he doesn't hear them. He expects Xena to trot in to greet him, but she doesn't.

Skulduggery turns, surprised to find Valkyrie leaning against the wall by the entryway arch. Her arms cross under her breasts, and her bare toes trace patterns on the tile. She doesn't blink - she only watches.

"Is something the matter?" he asks, already concerned.

"Caelan is going to the Sanctuary gaol tomorrow," Valkyrie murmurs. Her voice purrs; she almost sounds like Darquesse, but her eyes are her own. As he steps forward, he begins to notice the small tells - the tension in her neck, the wide-blown pupils, the clenched fingers.

This is not the physical response he expects. "And how do you know this?"

"He attacked me," she shrugs as if it's nothing. "Fletcher, Anton and I handled it, but Anton is calling Cleavers in tomorrow."

"And," he begins, coming to stand in front of her, hands sliding down her arms, "what did he say that brought you here in such a rush?"

Her lips twitch, and she tilts her head to stare at his eyesockets. "He said he loves me. He told me he could take me to places I can only imagine. Pain, pleasure, everything."

"Ah," he chuckles, his grazing touch tightening on her wrists. "I see."

"What does that mean?" she breathes, leaning up to him, lips ghosting over his jaw.

"It means I understand the hurried visit now." He pulls her hands up, slamming them into the wall to either side, pinning her. Her eyelids flutter. Her hips press into him. "Darquesse mentioned you have a bit of a fantasy about such things."

"Darquesse doesn't know what she's talking about," Valkyrie replies, her lips twitching up at the corners, dark eyes hungry.

"So you would deny my request for a spar?"

Valkyrie wrenches her wrists free when he slackens his grip; she twists them away only to shove her hands against his sternum, sending him stumbling. Valkyrie follows his path, shadows surging around her arms; he expects another shove or some kind of hit, but one of her hands vices around the back of his cervical column, bringing his teeth to her mouth. "How about we make it fun?"

"Sparring is always fun."

"I think you might like this a little more."

"Oh?" He hates that her words are making things that don't exist clench in his chest. He hates that Valkyrie can remind him of those things that he secretly covets.

Valkyrie pulls away and steps back, sliding out of her jacket and tossing it toward the empty countertop. It misses, falling to the floor with a whispering thump, but Valkyrie doesn't seem to care. She wiggles her fingers and her eyes close for a moment. He expects to see Darquesse peering out at him from her leash, but it is Valkyrie who opens her eyes and impatiently grumbles, "Well?"

Skulduggery rolls his sleeves up and tilts his head while he watches her. She's thrumming with energy, nearly trembling. He can practically taste Darquesse trying to nose her way through; Darquesse doesn't appreciate getting left out during lessons.

Valkyrie loses her poise faster than usual - when he takes his time with his sleeves, she lets out an irritable snort and launches herself at him, hooking a foot around the back of his knee, yanking his feet out from under him. It makes Valkyrie stumble, too, but she dances back on her bare feet. She doesn't drop into a stance, and she doesn't circle. She stands and stares, her mouth slightly parted.

She looks animalistic, and something about it calls to Lord Vile. Vile doesn't care that it isn't Darquesse - his interest comes from the malice and excitement spreading from Valkyrie. They are things Valkyrie does not typically radiate with; not during practice, anyway. It is as terrifying as it is exhilarating to see.

Skulduggery gets to his feet, gloves turning to fists. He stays silent; partly because he is concentrating on keeping Vile in check, but also because he knows it drives Darquesse insane - and, by default, Valkyrie.

She comes at him again, but he's ready this time. He manages to evade her elbow, bringing his knee up to catch her belly. She doubles over his leg, wheezing; Skulduggery doesn't give her a moment to breathe. He grabs her waist and tosses her into the cabinets. Valkyrie's hip catches a knob, elbow smashing into the countertop, and she hisses in reponse.

And still, Skulduggery advances.

He takes her neck in hand and uses it to drag her up, feet kicking, and shoves her against the backsplash, head banging into a cupboard. He holds her there, watching as she wheezes past the hand on her throat, how she wriggles, how her wide eyes stay clenched, closed, pained.

Lord Vile likes to remind Skulduggery of things he doesn't want to think about. His dead wife. Abyssinia. And, more often than not, he reminds Skulduggery that a piece of him would love to rip Valkyrie apart.

 _Darquesse._ Not Valkyrie...Darquesse.

Skulduggery releases her neck, horrified at the feeling, at Vile's urge to shred into her throat. Valkyrie is gasping to catch her breath; when her eyes finally open, they are wide and confused.

Skulduggery worries that the surprise and shock are going to lead in a very different direction, but they don't. Valkyrie shoves him away and stumbles off of the counter, onto the tile, and kicks him. He grabs her foot and pushes, sending her reeling into the living room. Her eyes narrow as her lips twitch into a smirk.

Skulduggery shoves her down onto the couch, knocking the coffee table aside, but she dances past before he can lower himself onto her. A sweep of shadow takes the coffee table away, smashing into the far wall and barely missing the television. Another swoop of her hand lifts Skulduggery's favourite chair, hurling it at him. He uses the air to catch it, to deflect some of her power, but it doesn't work as well as he hoped. He manages to shove the air, twirling the seat wildly, but it still smacks into him with enough force to make everything go dark for a moment.

"I thought we said no magic," he scolds, pushing the air; the chair doesn't move. It's beginning to writhe with shadows. He sighs and shoves harder, sending the shadows and the chair crashing into the wall and hitting the broken coffee table.

He stands but pauses before brushing down his clothing. Valkyrie is still standing in the place she had been, but the shadows are coiling around her, snaking along her legs, over her hips, twining around her neck.

Vile swells before Skulduggery can keep him down. He strides the metres between their bodies, tugging Valkyrie's belt loops to draw her against him. His teeth find her lower lip and bite, tug, and Valkyrie moans.

And then he's flying through the air, hurled off of his feet by the shadows swirling around their legs. Valkyrie - Darquesse? It's getting harder to tell them apart - laughs, captivated, and stalks after him.

He watches as she drifts toward him down the hallway. With every few steps, she tugs off an article of clothing. Her shirt. Belt. Trousers. Bra. When Valkyrie reaches him, she comes to an abrupt stop. Skulduggery looks up at her from where he sprawls against the bedroom door.

She's wild and touseled. She's smirking. "You'd look good on your knees."

Skulduggery slowly moves, getting his knees and reaching out to her, a man dying for a breath he doesn't need, and hooks his fingers in the silky boyshorts covering her. Valkyrie doesn't move when he slides them down her legs other than to step out of them when they pool at her feet.

Skulduggery reaches into his shirt, flipping the facade on. He glances up at Valkyrie, ensuring she's pleased with the look of the thing about to delve between her legs; she raises a brow, urging him on, and he presses his mouth to her.

She tries to remain impartial while he works, while his lips and tongue lather her clit with attention, while one gloved hand grips her ass and the other kneads its way between her leg. Valkyrie fails, though, and lets out a ragged gasp when he nips her clit, soothing the hurt with his tongue.

Valkyrie braces an arm on the wall and lifts one of her legs, helpfully giving him more access. Her thigh is heavy on his shoulder, but it is an exquisite feeling, having her so intimately wrapped around him. She begins shuddering under his hands, under his mouth. Skulduggery doubles his efforts, feeling the tightening of her muscles, how her free hand clenches in his facade's hair, twisting it with each helpless whimper from her lips.

Then she shoves his head back and away; his neck pings in pain at the sudden motion, but he dutifully departs, glancing up at her. She's close to release, her expression manic. Even so, she pulls away from him, tries to compose herself, and then fails when Skulduggery reaches forward to tweak her swollen nub.

Her foot finds his chest, firmly pressing him back into the door. "Enough," she orders, but he's sure that her tone is breathier than she intends. "Bed."

He stands, expecting her to push him down again just because she can, and opens the door behind him. Valkyrie strides through, pale and gleaming, her tattoo darkened in the hazy moonlight streaming through the barely-parted windows. Her scars, though, glisten when the rays hit them; they're pearly, gleaming in varying shades of healed skin.

"Get on the bed," she directs. Before Skulduggery can, she stops him with a tendril of shadow, the blackness coiling, roughly removing his mostly-useless belt, his pants, his shirt.

When the tendril finally leaves him - only after swirling through his ribs, along his pelvis, looping through the narrow passages of his ischium, tugging at feelings he shouldn't possess - he begins moving. When he arrives close enough to touch Valkyrie, he grabs her arm and tosses her onto the bed. It earns him a yip of surprise.

"You never play by the rules," she grumbles, looking up at him with barely-masked annoyance. "It'd be grand if you did once in a while."

"You set no rules," he reminds her, descending on top of her, settling above her hips and making her groan. "And you would never love me if I blindly followed."

She doesn't argue; a slight smile slips across her face before she remembers herself, before she arranges her features into an aloof simper. Her fingers go to Skulduggery's bared collarbones, flicking the skin away.

And then he's tumbling off of her, skull hitting the headboard and sending blinding pain through his cranium. It gives Valkyrie time to climb onto his lap, rubbing herself across his femur. Her mouth lowers to his jaw and her tongue slides across the bone.

The sensation is strange - it isn't unpleasant, of course, but her tongue is composed of things he can barely feel unless he focuses on Vile, focuses on tactile sensations that Skulduggery himself has lost. So he lets Vile in, just a piece, and her tongue is impossibly warm, her breath making the trail of saliva cold in its wake.

Vile lashes out, striking her forehead, forcing her back. Valkyrie yelps, but she doesn't try to pull away when he takes his place above her, femur returning to the slick wetness between her legs, shoving in and making her whimper.

"You're not following the rules," she manages to pant out, struggling to keep her eyelids from fluttering.

"I never do." Vile colours Skulduggery's words, dark and horrible; Valkyrie lets out a shaky breath, but her lips part in excitement, not fear. Vile hates that she's not afraid, wants to change it - _needs_ to change it - but Skulduggery holds him back - he doesn't deserve to touch her. She isn't his - she's Skulduggery's.

The possessiveness is sudden and overwhelming; Skulduggery bites his way from her lips to her nipples, rougher than necessary, but Valkyrie jolts, hands struggling to find purchase on his skull. Her hips buck, grinding herself into his femur, unable to hold back the trembling groans.

Skulduggery raises his head to watch her come, to watch her arch, breasts pushing up toward the ceiling, one hand scrabbling across the duvet, the other digging into his crown, toes curled. He admires how her thighs tighten around him, how she jolts each time he rubs against her overstimulated apex.

She goes very still beneath him, and he freezes. Vile reacts, feeling Darquesse, and Skulduggery bites back a groan. The effort to stop the small piece of darkness inside of him is overwhelming.

And so is the sensation of Valkyrie's fingers digging into his pelvis, Darquesse's intent to shatter it evident even before the bone begins to hurt. Skulduggery grabs her throat, pressing in on her windpipe, and murmurs, "Darquesse, I assume?"

Her eyes open, the faint tickle of light behind her corneas hinting at the malicious side. But Valkyrie is still there, too, still smirking. "What do you say to a playdate?"

"That is...not wise."

"It sounds fun, though, doesn't it?"

Skulduggery presses a little harder, making her squeak, and her eyes light a little more. "A supervised playdate, then."

Valkyrie's laugh is silky. Her shadows spill into him, teasing Vile's, drawing the darkness out, caught somewhere in Skulduggery's empty abdomen. "Don't fight," she purrs. And then she twists her hand, plunging it toward the shadows coiling within him.

She grips _him._ Skulduggery isn't sure how or why, but the sensation is both awful and mindnumbing in its pleasure. Skulduggery can't help the noise that leaves between his teeth; Valkyrie looks triumphant. Her left hand joins her right, and they sweep through whatever is happening within him, her shadows feeding it, letting it envelop him.

"Valkyrie," he moans warningly.

"Do you want me to stop?" She teases one of her fingers, fluttering it within him, and he shouts.

He doesn't want her to stop - of course he doesn't - but he can feel his control slipping, Vile's devastating desire to reach out and break Darquesse over his knee.

"Do you want me to stop?" she repeats. She sounds sultry. She is beginning to rake herself across his femur again, breath hot - God, he can feel the heat - on his jaw. Her right hand clenches around a rib and pain flares, but the pain is perfection.

"No," he replies. He's unable to think, to come up with a witty quip or something to make Valkyrie roll her eyes or laugh - something that brings him out of his trance.

She gives an especially obscene flick of her pelvis.  He arches against it, against her fingers twining through Vile's darkness, fisting it, making every centimetre of Skulduggery flare with fire.

"Come for me," she whispers. It's Valkyrie, just Valkyrie now, and Skulduggery chokes out a noise, bites her neck, and does as asked.

The release is overwhelming. He can't see or hear or think. Everything is so quiet.

When he comes back to his bones, Valkyrie is groaning beneath him, her own orgasm taking her, tremoring through his femur. Her fingers have left him and are tearing at the duvet; her cries to the ceiling go unanswered, but she looks sublime, as if hearing a divine response. She slumps to the bed, her bowed spine releasing, and makes a satisfied sound in the back of her throat. Skulduggery stays where he is, watching her lazily blink, lazily smile, lazily go up to her elbows to press her mouth to his teeth.

Valkyrie eventually touches his sternum, pushing gently, and he gets off of her. She's sweat-speckled and wild-haired, but she climbs under the bed sheets, uncaring. Skulduggery joins her; she slides her arm through the place his abdomen should be, forearm a comfortable weight on his backbone. Her face presses against his shoulder and her breath is just wind now - not warm or cold. Only air.

The worst part about Vile's ability to make him feel, Skulduggery realises, is that it makes the absence of it so much harder.

He thinks she's fallen asleep, but Valkyrie slurs out, "I'm selfishly glad Nye didn't find Darquesse."

Skulduggery chuckles and presses his teeth against the top of her head. He wishes he could smell her hair product - it's something called 'autumn woods'; from what he remembers of woods in autumn, the smell must be perfect on her. "Selfishly, I am, as well," he admits.

He's sure Darquesse smugly, and quite selfishly, appreciates the compliment.

 

* * *

 


	10. Refrain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Ten, in which _Doves and Ravens_ concludes.

* * *

 

Skulduggery knows he shouldn't, but he insists on 'assisting' the Cleavers in bringing Caelan to the Sanctuary. Valkyrie is more than happy to 'assist,' as well, though her version of assistance is casually tripping Caelan's feet with errant shadows.

Skulduggery walks behind Caelan, gaze never leaving the pitch-black hair, the pale sliver of neck poking above his black shirt. He wants to kill the vampire, _legality_ be damned. But he holds himself in check because Valkyrie asked him to.

It doesn't stop him from knocking Caelan's head on the Cleavers' van entry while 'assisting' him into the back, though.

The drive is intermittently interrupted by Caelan's pleas to Valkyrie. Skulduggery does his best to ignore it, but Caelan has some choice suggestions of ways he can bring Valkyrie to orgasm without his hands. Skulduggery will never admit it, but he makes a mental note of a few.

Valkyrie, after five minutes, turns sharply, glaring through the cage into the back. "You are creepy, do you know that? I mean, maybe I would have been into the broody thing when I was a teenager, but now I try to leave the creepy stuff to office hours."

"Says the woman dating a living skeleton," Skulduggery reminds her. He loves the growl Caelan bites out, the way his shackles clang as he strains against them.

 _"Him?"_ he seethes.

Valkyrie snorts and settles back into her seat; Skulduggery takes hold of the air around the cargo cage; Caelan's tantrum silences, blocked by the invisible barrier. Valkyrie chuckles and her fingers lace with Skulduggery's; he squeezes ever so slightly, and her lips tilt.

Occasionally, Skulduggery lowers the air-barrier to catch snippets of Caelan's rant. The vampire likes to threaten them both; his description of licking Valkyrie until her heart explodes have turned to a much bloodier version, one that Skulduggery tries to forget as soon as he hears. The Cleavers in the front of the van don't react, but Skulduggery is relatively sure they wish they weren't assigned this detail.

 

* * *

 

Davina Marr is an absolute troll of a person, but Valkyrie doesn't say that aloud. She might be making a face that gives the impression, though, because Marr can't stop staring and frowning.

"Done with your report, Ms Cain?" she asks. Valkyrie hates her voice. Valkyrie isn't sure if she's hated anyone's voice more.

"I'm still surprised we have to fill out hand-written reports," Valkyrie mumbles, returning to her leaflet. "You would think we could move into an age of magical technology and create something better than Google, but no. Handwritten reports."

"Would you rather text your report in, Ms Cain?" Marr is haughty and everything evil in the world, Valkyrie decides.

"God, yes. Do you know how much longer it takes to write than it does to text? Or even _type_ \- we have computers. Why can't we, at minimum, move this stuff over to some...magical version of the Cloud?"

"Although I may agree with you," Skulduggery murmurs from her side, "your Millennial is showing and it tends to upset some of the older sorcerers."

Valkyrie snorts, breaking, and picks up her pen. "I am just saying, _everything_ needs the occasional update to stay relevant. Marr's jacket, for example."

Marr narrows her eyes. Skulduggery scrawls along, humming a little tune to himself while he writes. He sounds serene. Valkyrie wonders if it's because he wants to irritate Marr, or if it is aftermath from last night.

Valkyrie is going to chalk it up to her skills in the bedroom.

"Our," Darquesse reminds.

Valkyrie makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat that draws a curious glance from Skulduggery and a sigh from Marr.

"Ms Cain-"

Marr's sicky-sweet disdain is cut off by a scream in the hallway. Skulduggery is on his feet before Valkyrie has time to process, his gun in hand. He's running toward the central hub when Valkyrie makes it to the doorway.

Something is running toward Skulduggery - something fast, low to the ground, feral and snarling. "Shit," Valkyrie snaps, rubbing her thumb over her ring. "Marr! Vampires!"

Marr is cursing behind her and pitches into the hall, tipping Valkyrie off of her balance. The commotion draws a growl from their right. A vampire, its mouth already red with blood. It charges them, and Marr shoves Valkyrie out of the way, blowing a screen of air into the vampire's face, making it stumble, all fours going out from under it. A fireball strikes a patch of poorly shorn skin, setting the wilting stuff aflame and making the vampire shrill.

"Shit, shit," Valkyrie whispers, slashing shadows toward it, wrapping them around its neck and cutting off the scream. It gags and writhes, horrifying eyes bulging out at her.

She can hear Skulduggery somewhere behind them - he's shouting for her, but she's too busy watching the life drain from those terrible eyes, the same eyes that stared out of Caelan's face the previous day.

A dense mass smashes into her; she collides with the wall, wind gone from her for three long seconds. When she can finally gulp at the air, she sees the second vampire. It lunges for her again; she curls into a foetal position, heart hammering.

The thing is so heavy that it takes her breath away when it lands on her. She can feel its hot breath and spittle, the teeth seeking her through her protective jacket. Valkyrie grunts and reaches up when she feels it pull back to reassess; she grabs the vampire's bottom jaw and yanks.

The shadows pool from her ring and wrap the lower mandible, hooking it open, twisting. Valkyrie turns her head toward it, watching its eyes, her chest turning colder each second that passes.

Its jaw separates; Valkyrie kicks it off of her and then crushes the remnants of its head under her boot until it's mash.

Skulduggery grabs her - Valkyrie doesn't know how much time has passed, but Marr is wounded and angry. On top of that, Valkyrie is pleased to find, Marr looks scared of her. Valkyrie almost asks what is happening, knowing full well that no one else knows, but Skulduggery takes immediate, decisive action. "The gaol."

"Caelan?" Marr asks, confused.

"Dusk," Skulduggery corrects, looping an arm around Valkyrie's waist. "Do try to keep up, Davina." And then the wind is whipping them away from her, dangerously fast.

There is jeering coming from the gaol. Skulduggery and Valkyrie burst through to find five dead Cleavers and two dead vampires. In the middle of the cellblock, Dusk is tossing Caelan around the room like a ragdoll. He snarls with his beautiful human form, eyes dark, teeth flashing.

"Dusk," Skulduggery calls; his gun is still out, still casual, but Valkyrie is fairly sure he's out of bullets. She isn't sure if the bluff would work on the best of days, but she knows it won't right now. Dusk's face is a torn mask of rage and exhilaration. "Nice to see you again."

Dusk doesn't move, but Caelan falls to the ground, bones crunching as he lands on his leg. The younger vampire howls; the cellblock erupts in cheers.

"Well then, Mr Pleasant; It seems you find excitement wherever you go."

"It's a gift," Skulduggery replies, continuing to advance. "Why don't you put Caelan back now?"

Valkyrie is getting increasingly aware of the dozens of angry eyes trained on them. The imprisoned sorcerers don't seem to care much about her, but their bloodlust for Skulduggery's demise is palpable.

"You should both leave," Dusk says; it's unthreatening, but it's difficult to remember that with his teeth bared and glinting in the light.

"You know we can't," Skulduggery says. "Also - you're under arrest."

Dusk laughs, the sound both surprised and amused. "I do miss your naivety. It is a refreshing change." Dusk grabs Caelan's broken leg and tosses him across the room without a single sign of strain. "The pup is mine."

"He is going to stand trial."

"For attacking your partner? Or for torturing and killing at least a dozen other women who looked just like her?"

Skulduggery stills and Valkyrie blanches. She doesn't know what he might ask, what he might say. When he finally begins moving again, it's to put his gun away and advance toward Dusk.

Dusk grabs Caelan by the head and smashes him into the wall before lunging for Skulduggery. The skeleton gives a kick to Dusk's neck, making him topple, stagger. The vampire lands a hit to Skulduggery's knee, and that crumples him.

Valkyrie goes to Caelan; she's moderately sure he's going to be unconscious for at least a minute or two, so she uses the time to wrap her shadows around him, hurling him into the cell.

Before she can close and bolt it, she's falling to her knees and trying not to retch. Something slammed into her head, and now all she can see is spots, and all she can feel is the burning bile on the back of her throat.

Valkyrie hears Skulduggery yell; she hears Marr shouting from the entryway, and then Marr is screaming, as well. Valkyrie tries to call out to them, to tell them that Caelan's cell is still open, that he's not secured, but all she can manage is an incoherent mumble.

A hand finds her hair and wrenches her head back. Valkyrie wheezes, shadows coiling up and around, tightening on the hand fisting her hair. They rip and shred, spiny with thorns. Dusk howls from right behind her, the sound furious. He tosses her away from him, and she hits the opposite cell. This one is not empty and a pair of hands thrust through to grab at Valkyrie's leg.

Before she can so much as yell, hands find her shoulders and wrench her back, only to toss her against the wall. Valkyrie can barely see through the dark spots clouding her vision, but she can hear Caelan's ragged breath as he holds her against the wall.

"Caelan, you need to get off of me," she begins, but her voice is wavering. She can smell her blood from whatever the hell hit her earlier; if she can detect it, he certainly can.

"I'm doing this for our love," he whispers - reverent, adoring. His mouth begins to lower to her throat but Valkyrie, using the rest of her equilibrium, slams her forehead into his, knocking him back with a grunt.

Valkyrie falls to the floor, blinded with pain, but she wildly kicks until she finds Caelan, striking until he tumbles on top of her. Valkyrie wiggles and flails; her knees, heels, and elbows hit any part of him they can reach.

Darquesse slips in for a split second and Valkyrie's flailing stops. Caelan's feral eyes meet hers, and suddenly he's calming, enraptured. "There you are," he whispers.

Valkyrie reaches up to his neck and squeezes. Darquesse presses their thumbs into the delicate skin of his delicate windpipe. She feels everything tear beneath the cropped nails. She listens to his gurgling howls until they stop. She watches the monster behind his eyes die, the slight snuffing out, leaving nothing.

Her face is covered in Caelan's blood when Marr and Skulduggery reach her. She stares at them blankly while they question her, and then shakes her head.

And then she vomits, her entire body shuddering.

 

* * *

 

"Did Dusk tell you about Caelan's past?"

Valkyrie shifts a little. She feels like their serious conversations _always_ happen in the car or her kitchen; it's gotten to the point where she's nervous about being in either location for long. "Yes."

"I see."

"And that means?"

Skulduggery hesitates. "I am merely wondering why you kept that to yourself."

"Because I knew what you'd do." She glances over at Skulduggery, but she can't tell anything from his facade. "Better Dusk in gaol for killing Caelan than you."

They drive in silence. Valkyrie wants to turn the radio on because the quiet is beginning to ring in her ears. She's nearly going mad when Skulduggery finally says, "I wish you had told me...I would have loved to kill him."

Valkyrie smiles faintly, glancing out the window. "Where's Dusk?"

"Gone," Skulduggery murmurs. "Which is unfortunate, seeing as you might be his next target."

"Me?" Valkyrie laughs. "Dusk loves me. We got on swimmingly."

"Until you killed the man he swore to murder in the name of his lover."

"Oh." Valkyrie thinks it over and then winces. "Oh."

"He is quite serious about his vengeance."

"I get it."

"It is his _thing,_ I suppose you could say."

"Yes, I understand the problem now; thank you."

"So, I suppose it is a good thing that you have three mentors at your beck and call."

Valkyrie rolls her eyes but freezes, sharply turning her head to look at him. "What did you do?"

"I chose to suffer greatly while Grouse patched you, so I went to the Temple."

"No. _Skulduggery, no."_

"It is never pleasant, so I hope Darquesse appreciate the lengths I am willing to go for her."

"She's not. She hates Wreath."

"We are probably making a wise decision inviting him back, then. Oh, I suppose I should mention that I invited him to move back into one of the guest rooms."

"Wait, what are you -- you invited _Wreath_ to live in _my_ house?"

"It sounds awful when you say it like that."

"I might hit him, you know."

"I would love it if you did."

"He's not very good at self-defence without magic; I bet I could take him if I'm fast enough." Skulduggery misses their turn; Valkyrie furrows her brows. "Where are we going?"

"Dinner."

"It's barely even four."

"I am sure you will come up with something to chat about until then."

Fear clogs her throat, a sudden choking force that she can't fight back. They're heading toward Haggard; there is only one reason they can be heading to Haggard. "I'm not ready."

"You are. And even if you are not, Desmond and Melissa need their daughter."

Valkyrie swallows but his words hit her square in the chest. He's right. He's always right.

They sit in silence until the car idles outside of the Edgley home. She casts a lingering glance at the house, and then Skulduggery. "Are you coming in?" She feels like a small child.

"I have some errands," is his vague response. He leans over to press his facade's lips to hers. "I will be back for dinner. Go speak to them."

Valkyrie nods, her stomach in knots. She gets out of the car and trudges to the front door. She raises her fist to knock, but the door opens, and her parents are there. Arms and words of love envelop her; she doesn't deserve it.

She deserves their rage.

Valkyrie breaks down, sagging against her father while her mother brushes her hair from her suddenly wet face. "Welcome home, love," Melissa murmurs.

"It's about time," Desmond adds affectionately, pulling away only enough to meet Valkyrie's eyes with his. "We thought you might have got lost. It's an easy enough mistake - I get lost once a month or so."

"Once a week, more like," Valkyrie murmurs, dropping her hands and looking between her parents. She thinks she might have herself under control, but then her mum smiles and all of her control shatters. "I'm so sorry," Valkyrie sobs, her voice choking out past the heart that relocated into her throat. "I don't deserve-"

Melissa reaches for her, pulling her from her husband's arms. "Stephanie Edgley, don't you dare."

Valkyrie lets her parents hold her. She allows herself to cry. She isn't sure she can do anything else.

 

* * *

 


End file.
